


the neighborhood strays

by chisomo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, OT9 - Freeform, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, Violence, chan is such a softie, yeah they're in a gang!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:02:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15448818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chisomo/pseuds/chisomo
Summary: At first, it was just the three of them: 3RACHA. The best weapons thieves this side of the Han River.After that- well, the next two were a total accident, and then the other four just kind of…happened.And by then, Chan was really stuck with them.The worst part? He wouldn’t have it any other way.





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> hell yeah this is a stray kids gang AU! fuck I'm so excited for this  
> ok but anyway: all the love to my AMAZING beta (I have a beta now?? how am I so lucky) who seriously helped me so much with this story...she's basically an angel and you should really check her out on tumblr!! https://pbandjaemin.tumblr.com/
> 
> so yeah pls leave any comments/suggestions/bribes and feel free to gush over stray kids with me!

It started out like this:

The three of them, just as it had always been- Jisung sprawled across the beaten-up couch, idly twirling a stolen knife between his fingers, Changbin taking long drags of a cigarette in the window seat, and Chan clacking away at his dented laptop on the table.

Faint hip hop music played in the background, punctuated by distant police sirens and periodic gurgles from the old-as-fuck coffeemaker in the makeshift kitchen down the hall.

The three of them, together: 3racha. Just as it had always been, and just as it would always be-

Or so they had hoped, at least.  

But that exact moment would be when everything began to change.

All at once, Changbin burned the side of his finger on the lit end of the cigarette for the first time since he had started smoking six years ago, Jisung hissed as the knife slipped and cut a long red stripe down his palm (definitely not for the first time), and Chan-

Chan got a phone call.

Two minutes later, he lowered the phone to find the eyes of the other two boys locked on him. A slow smile pushed its way onto Chan’s face as he closed his laptop. “C’mon, kids. We’ve got a job.” Changbin grinned in spite of himself, putting out the cigarette as Jisung sprung up from the couch and whooped, “Fucking _finally!_ ”

That was the beginning.

 

“Quick and simple, guys,” Chan reiterated as Jisung and Changbin tugged dark, long sleeved shirts over their heads. “Get in, get the stuff, get out.” Jisung rolled his eyes as he tugged on a black beanie, “We get it, hyung, don’t worry.” Changbin nodded, strapping his favorite pistol to his thigh, “Seriously, you said it yourself- it’s a quick job.”

Chan sighed, eyes scanning his dongsaengs carefully to make sure their gear was secure. “I know, it’s just- we’ve never stolen from NCT before, or any gang their size.” Jisung, who was preoccupied with slipping an assortment of knives into the pockets of his jacket and pants, just laughed before looking up and grinning brightly, “Exactly. A gang their size- god, this is going to be so much fun.”

Changbin shook his head at the younger, “Calm down a little, Jesus- you act like a kid at Christmastime. We’re stealing weapons, not opening presents.” Unbothered, Jisung just turned his beaming smile towards Changbin, “Hyung, c’mon- don’t pretend like you’re not just as excited as I am.”

“Guys, be serious,” Chan broke in just as Changbin opened his mouth to retaliate. “Remember- caution always, but especially with new gangs. I need you guys to be careful out there.” Chastened, the younger two nodded at Chan, and he sighed before crushing them both in a hug.

“Mmpf, _hyung-_ ” both boys’ complaints were muffled in Chan’s sweatshirt. “Alright,” he chuckled, squeezing them once before letting go and pushing them in the direction of the door. “Let’s go.” And so all three boys pushed out into the night to pile into Chan’s rusty old Hyundai.

          

NCT’s warehouse was brightly lit in the dark city outskirts, beams of unforgiving light promising a challenge for Jisung and Changbin to get inside. Chan parked the car out of sight down the road, and quickly set up his laptop and communication system as the younger boys climbed out of the car, pulling on their storage packs.

“Okay, you’ve both got your Bluetooths in?” he checked one final time. Both boys rolled their eyes simultaneously, and Chan hid a smile at how alike the two were sometimes. “Yes, Dad,” Jisung replied, and Changbin smirked. Chan reached out a hand to ruffle Jisung’s bangs, but the boy ducked out of the way easily.

“Alright, 3racha- let’s do this.”

And with that, Chan watched as the two other members of his small gang took off into the night, an inexplicable uneasiness racing through his veins.

_Something-_ the dark wind and dead leaves seemed to be whispering- _something is coming for you._

_-or someone-_

 

Jisung and Changbin halted just before the warehouse, barely hidden by the darkness. Three years of nights spent skating a little too close to the edge, adrenaline lighting up their blood and danger staining their teeth- three years had made them a formidable duo.

An exchange of quicksilver grins and an unspoken- _Meet me at the stash-_ were all that was needed before both boys took off in opposite directions, dodging the beams of light. In true Jisung fashion, the younger of the two chose the more reckless route- climbing through an upper story window- while Changbin made for a basement entrance.

For Jisung, the routes to stashes were always a blur of dark hallways, whispered directions from Chan, and sugar-sweet _adrenaline_ rushing through his veins. The huge size of this warehouse- and the considerable size of its gang- only made it more exhilarating. And when he finally made it to the weapons stash seconds before Changbin… Jisung _lived_ for that feeling.

“Beat ya,” he whispered happily, and didn’t have to look at the other boy to know he was rolling his eyes in the darkness. “You both there?” Chan asked, and Changbin whispered a breathless affirmative. “Okay, you know the drill- fill up as much as you can. I want to sell as many of these as possible. And _be careful._ ”

Jisung and Changbin were already stuffing their bags full with as many weapons as they could reach. Given that there were only two of them, it was much harder to take as many as they needed- luckily, three years in 3racha had made both boys into damn good thieves.

It was time for the hard part- getting back to the car with all the stolen weapons. “Same routes as before?” Jisung asked. Changbin’s eyes darted nervously to the corners of the room, “I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t go through the window again…I saw guards along the perimeter that way, and- and something doesn’t feel right, Jisung.”

The younger shook his head, “You’re imagining things again, hyung- you should really get that checked out.” Changbin growled, “Aish, you brat. Fine- same routes, but if you die… I’m not going to your funeral.” Jisung pouted, “I’m hurt, hyung-” Changbin pushed him aside, “Fucking _go, c’mon.”_

For the first five minutes, it was fine- and Changbin was just starting to think that maybe they would make it out of the warehouse without incident- when alarm bells began to ring overhead. “ _Fuck,”_ he swore, sprinting harder towards the exit. _Jisung, you idiot._

Distracted by his panic, Changbin didn’t hear the approaching footsteps of an NCT member until the guy rounded the corner, eyes widening as they took in Changbin before hardening. “Hey, stop right there!” he yelled. _Yeah right, fucker._

Without hesitating, Changbin slipped the pistol from his thigh strap, fired a single shot right into the guy’s foot, and dodged past him. He didn’t have time for a fight- there was no doubt that the alarm bells were because of-

_Motherfucking Jisung-_

Chan was swearing in his ear, but Changbin had stopped paying attention, all his focus on escaping.

Finally bursting out of the basement door into the black night, he whirled around to see three NCT members racing for him- there was no time for him to fight, the bells were loud enough to alert nearby police, and he needed to go go _go-_

But-

_Jisung Jisung Jisung-_

“Car, _now!”_ Chan’s voice in his ear held no room for argument, and Changbin gritted his teeth. _Chan knows what he’s doing Chan knows he knows-_ chest aching, Changbin prayed that Jisung was on his way out as well before he turned and sprinted for Chan’s car, the three NCT members now practically breathing down his neck.

He couldn’t risk leading them back to Chan’s car- _fuck._

Swearing under his breath, Changbin whipped out his pistol once more and – _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ – three shots for each guy’s right foot, and they were out. _Take that, motherfuckers._ Changbin allowed himself a small smile, proud of his consistently perfect aim, before his thoughts careened back to Jisung.

Skidding into the street, he caught sight of Chan’s car, headlights blinding him for a moment before he was running straight for it. _Please let Jisung be there already please-_ God knows the younger boy loved beating Changbin in every single goddamn race, but this time- this time, Changbin wouldn’t mind losing.

Throwing himself into the open car door, Changbin landed…in an empty backseat.

“ _Where’s Jisung?”_

Chan’s jaw was clenched impossibly tight; his knuckles bone white on the steering wheel. “He’s coming,” was all that he gave as a reply, and white-hot panic erupted in Changbin’s chest. He punched the seat in frustration, “Goddamnit, no he’s not! I didn’t see him anywhere back there- _Chan-”_

He broke off at the sight of Jisung bursting into view down the street- eyes wild, pack swinging from one arm, and _a motherfucking grin plastered on his face._

Changbin wanted to murder him.

A second later, he realized in a flash of terror that he might never get the chance to- because just behind Jisung broke out an NCT member, blond hair flashing in the headlights as he lifted his gun to aim right at Jisung’s retreating back.

_Please god-_

 

Changbin had first shot a gun when he was fifteen. Like so many other things, Chan had been the one to teach him how, hands gentle as they guided Changbin’s to hold the gun correctly and cock the trigger. With Chan murmuring encouragement beside him, he had aimed at a soda can on a concrete wall, pulled the trigger, and- _bang!_

The shot flew wide, not even close to the can.

Changbin had fallen in love with it immediately.

Over the next three years, he had loaded countless bullets, pulled countless triggers, practiced his aim for countless hours, and grown to be an expert gunman. So he knew what he was talking about when it came to aiming a gun and shooting it.

And that’s how he knew… that NCT member aiming at Jisung’s back?

He had a perfect shot.

One bullet, and-

_Please god Jisung-_

But as time blurred into slow motion and Jisung sprinted towards the car, the guy didn’t shoot.

_Why- why isn’t he shooting?_

Jisung got closer and closer to the car, and yet- the guy still didn’t shoot. Instead, he _lowered the gun_ and watched as Jisung finally reached the car, throwing himself directly onto Changbin’s lap- warm and laughing and _alive alive alive-_

“I’m going to fucking MURDER you!” Changbin yelled directly in Jisung’s face, only to glare as the younger laughed in response. “Sorry to have worried you, hyung,” he replied cheekily, and _that was it- Changbin was officially going to murder him._

Chan was frozen in the front seat, eyes locked onto the NCT member who had lowered his gun. His blond hair gleamed in the headlights that illuminated him, lighting him up against the black night as he lifted his arm and gestured- _get out of here, c’mon, go-_

He was ethereal.

That was when what seemed like the entire rest of the NCT gang spilled onto the street as well, catching the blond member right in the act as he motioned for them to escape, his gun loose by his side. _Oh, shit-_

Chan was only unfrozen by the slamming of a hand on his shoulder, Jisung screaming in his ear, “ _Fucking go, hyung!”_ Bolting into action, Chan slammed the car in reverse, pulled the fastest 3-point turn he had ever executed in his life, and sped down the street.

He couldn’t help his eyes darting back to the rearview mirror, though- just in time to see an angry punch land on the blond’s face, then another, and another- until he disappeared in the swarm of fists and darkness. Chan’s gut twisted at the sight.

_Why did he help us?_

_Why why why why-_

The confusion burned a hole in Chan’s chest, but for now- for now, Jisung was somehow alive in the backseat, laughing as though he hadn’t almost been shot a minute ago, and Changbin looked seconds away from throttling him, and-

They had made it out of another night. That was the important thing.

Even still-

_Who is he?_


	2. the first addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter goes out to all the woochan stans...this one's for you (: anyway I know there isn't a lot of action in this one but stick with me, ok?  
> p.s. I promise I don't hate NCT haha

Blond hair, flashing gold in the headlights-

The gleam of a gun under the far-off city lights, pointing directly at-

- _get out of here, c’mon, go-_

 

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, running his hands through the mop of tangled curls on his head as he tried (and failed) to focus on the blinking screen of his laptop. He really, _really_ needed to touch base with this new client, and also update the weapons inventory, and also plan out the route for the next heist, and-

_Blond hair in the headlights-_

God, he needed to sleep.

The room was slowly darkening around him, the only real light coming from his laptop. Jisung had passed out on the beaten-up couch for the fourth time this week, and Changbin was actually at his own house for the night- his parents were in town, for once.

Of course, this also meant that he would find Changbin standing on the doorstep tomorrow morning, hands shaking and skin rubbed raw with the rough edges of all the disapproving comments and disappointed remarks his parents would direct towards him tonight.

And just like every single other night when Changbin’s parents were in town, Chan would be there to pick up the pieces. To stare down at Changbin from the other end of a cigarette and pretend not to notice how red his eyes were. To hand Changbin a gun and watch him shoot at soda cans for hours-

-or however long it took for his dongsaeng to be able to breathe properly again.

That would not happen until the morning, however, so for now…

For now, Chan was left to stare blearily at his laptop and try to think about anything other than- _blond hair headlights get out of here c’mon-_ anything other than that.

He was failing miserably.

It just didn’t make sense- why had the NCT member let them go? Why hadn’t he shot Jisung? Why had he helped them? The uncertainty was killing Chan, and it didn’t help that every time he closed his eyes, he could see the blond disappearing under a wave of fists in his rearview mirror.

His gut twisted sickeningly every time.

Suddenly, a soft mumbling sounded from the corner, and Chan turned to see Jisung still curled up on the couch, hands clutched tight around his favorite knife and dark hair fanned over the pillow. If it weren’t for the knife in his hands, Jisung would look unbearably innocent.

As it was, however, he just looked unbearably _young_ to Chan. _Only seventeen…_ and he had almost gotten shot a couple days ago. If that blond member hadn’t lowered his gun- Chan closed his eyes, fists tightening.

_Only seventeen-_

Chan had to do better.

They had gotten lucky this time, but they would not get lucky a second time. Chan knew this- he knew that luck and time and the world were never on the sides of three teenaged boys who spent their lives stealing weapons and had little else in the world besides each other.

Chan had to do better, had to protect them… _or else._ The next time a gun was pointed straight at Jisung’s back, it would fire straight at him- and Chan would sooner die than see that happen.

_I have to protect him- protect both of them._

He had to _be_ _better_.

And with that thought in mind, Chan turned back to his laptop screen.

 

The universe was kind of funny, in that- just when he had managed to stop all thoughts of- _that member-_ just when he had stopped seeing fists rain down on a broken body in his rearview mirror, just when-

Chan rounded the corner of an aisle in the convenience store and stopped dead.

Strong shoulders and scuffed combat boots and _fucking blond hair_ that gleamed in the fluorescent lighting… it was him.

- _get out of here, c’mon, go-_

Chan stopped breathing.

The other guy hadn’t seen him yet- he was hunched over a selection of chicken, face mask securely hiding his face from the world. But Chan would know that hair anywhere. Only half-conscious of what he was doing, Chan took three slow, careful steps until he was standing right next to him.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?”

Startled, the other man took two quick steps back, eyes wide as they took in Chan, before his gaze hardened and he regained his composure. “Fuck off,” he spat, turning to walk away- but not before Chan could catch his arm and hold him back.

“ _Why didn’t you shoot him?”_

Dark eyes glared at Chan as the man tried in vain to tug his arm out of Chan’s grip. “Let me _go,”_ he commanded, natural strength showing in his build and his tone and the way he held himself- but Chan only held on tighter. He had no fucking idea what he was doing, really, but something-

- _get out of here, c’mon, go-_

-something was telling him not to let go.

“Why?” was all he replied, and the other man’s eyes locked on Chan’s, freezing both men in place as they searched one another’s gaze. Chan wasn’t sure what this man saw in his eyes, but whatever he found made him sigh in surrender.

“Not here,” he muttered, finally succeeding in freeing his arm now that Chan saw he wasn’t going anywhere. “Just…follow me. At a distance. Can you do that?” Chan nodded. The other man regarded him for a minute longer, before nodding and walking towards the exit.

It might have been difficult for most people, having to follow a stranger through the teeming crowds of Seoul without losing sight of them. Then again, most people hadn’t spent the last week seeing that same stranger’s profile in their mind’s eye.

Chan didn’t lose sight of him once.

He did, however, worry that this was all some elaborate trap designed to lure him straight into an ambush. NCT was a particularly ruthless gang, and here Chan was following one of their members into the heart of Seoul without question.

Except- _Chan trusted him._

He didn’t even know this guy’s name, and yet- he trusted him. Only time would tell whether that would prove to be a mistake.

Even still, as he followed the blond man into a run-down building and up a long flight of stairs, he kept one hand on the revolver hidden under his sweatshirt the whole time. When he finally reached the top, the other man was waiting for him at a nondescript metal door.

“You made it,” he remarked, eyes sweeping Chan’s form as Chan nodded and pretended the flights of stairs hadn’t left him out of breath. And with that, the blond pushed open the door, and walked out into bright sunlight.

They were on the roof.

Chan’s eyes roved over the city skyline appreciatively before snapping back to the blond, who was leaning against the railing on the edge of the roof. He walked over to him, and leaned back against the railing as well in hopes of putting the blond at ease.

“So…” he prompted, causing the blond to turn towards Chan. He sighed, defeat clear in the line of his shoulders, before pulling his face mask down under his chin so he could talk properly.

_Holy shit._

Chan couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him- now that the face mask was gone, he could see the reason for it: the blond’s face was covered in long, red cuts and blooming splotches of bruises, his bottom lip split wide open.

Chan’s chest ached at the sight of it.

“You…your gang did this to you?” he heard himself ask before even thinking about it, and the other man’s eyes widened before he scowled at the ground, turning away from Chan. “NCT does not take traitors lightly,” was all he said, tone dismissive.

Forcing back the protests that were rising in his throat- _choosing not to kill someone doesn’t make you a traitor-_ Chan cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “Um- I’m Chan, by the way.” The blond member regarded his hand in the sunlight for a moment before breaking into a smile for the first time.

And yeah, maybe his lip was still split open and there was a purpling bruise along his jawline, but even still- _god,_ Chan wanted to have the image of that smile painted on the backs of his eyelids.

“I know who you are, dumbass,” the blond said amusedly, still smiling. Chan gaped a bit, “You- you do?” The blond smirked at his astonishment, “Bang Chan, leader of 3racha- of course.” Chan furrowed his brow, “I didn’t know other gangs knew who we were.”

3racha was getting more and more clients lately, sure- but they were still incredibly small for a gang and very new, and very young, and- well, the gangs who did know of them hardly ever took them seriously. But now even NCT knew of 3racha?

What did this mean for them?

The blond’s eyes softened as he watched Chan ponder over this new information. “Woojin,” he said suddenly, his hand slipping into Chan’s- calloused but warm. “Um- thanks?” Chan said into the silence, panicking just a bit as the warmth of Woojin’s hand made his brain short-circuit.

The blond - _Woojin-_ barely stifled a laugh, his hand slipping out of Chan’s. “You’re welcome, I guess.” Forcibly regaining his composure- _dammit, Chan, you’re the leader of a goddamn gang, pull yourself together-_ he let the sun wash over them for a few quiet moments before voicing his question again.

“So, why didn’t you shoot him? Not that I’m not grateful, but-” Chan cut himself off, watching Woojin carefully as the blond breathed in the sunlight for a moment longer before turning back to Chan, his eyes suddenly achingly sad.

“I just-” he stopped, visibly swallowing as his gaze dropped to his feet. “I just… I can’t shoot people. Not anymore.” Fists clenching, he looked back out over the city, jaw tight. “My older brother- he’s the reason I joined NCT. Followed in his footsteps, and all that. But…a few months ago-”

Woojin’s voice broke, and he took a shaky breath, Chan desperately straining against the urge to reach out and wrap him up in his arms. “A few months ago, there was a huge shoot out with iKON…and he got shot... right in front of me.”

Chan couldn’t breathe all of a sudden.

“Died right there…bleeding out onto the floor of a warehouse with his little brother sobbing next to him- what a way to go, huh?” Woojin laughed bitterly, the sound so different from his earlier warmth that it made Chan’s chest ache.

Unable to stop himself any longer, Chan reached out and let his hand rest on Woojin’s arm comfortingly, and the blond cleared his throat before continuing. “Anyway- ever since then, I can’t- I haven’t been able to shoot anyone.”

His voice was trembling now, and all Chan could do was stand there with his heart breaking and his hand resting on the arm of this beautiful boy. “Great quality to have in a gang member, right? Can’t even shoot a goddamn gun,” Woojin said darkly, shoulders tense.

“Not that it matters anymore…they kicked me out,” he said quietly after a moment, gaze lifting to the skyline once more. Chan gaped, “What- just because you didn’t shoot someone?” Woojin shook his head, “He wasn’t ‘someone.’ He was a rival gang member who had just stolen a quarter of our weapons supply, and _I let him escape.”_

Woojin sighed shakily, “That’s unforgivable in NCT. And I’m surprised that you don’t see it that way… you have to be ruthless if you want to be powerful in this city, Chan.” Despite how much he disagreed with that statement, Chan stayed silent- even as something within him melted at the sound of his name on Woojin’s tongue.

Instead- he looked, really _looked_ at Woojin for the first time. Past the golden hair, past the strong shoulders and honeyed smile and tanned skin- past all of that.

Bruises bloomed in shades of blue and purple all over his face and red cuts snaked along his skin and he held himself as if trying to hide further injuries under his jacket. His bruised jaw was locked with tension and his boots looked five seconds from falling apart and his jacket wasn’t nearly thick enough to protect him from the cold, and-

And his eyes were _so tired._

  _Blond hair in the headlights-_

_I just- I can’t shoot people-_

Chan made a decision standing there on that rooftop- one that he hoped to god he wouldn’t regret.

“Join 3racha.”

Woojin did a double take, eyes wide. “Sorry, what?” Chan felt himself step closer to Woojin, unable to stop himself and not even half sure of what he was doing, but determined nonetheless. “Join 3racha,” he repeated. “Come with me, be in my gang. We…we could use a fourth member.”

Woojin was silent, shock clear in his gaze as he regarded Chan in front of him. Chan could only hope that what he saw would convince him, and pressed on, “You won’t have to shoot anyone, I promise.” Woojin took a step back, eyes narrowed, “Why- why would I do that? I don’t even know you.”

Chan smiled, easy and warm, “Yeah, you do. My name’s Chan. And I want you to be in my gang.” Woojin laughed in disbelief, but it was a huge step up from the bitter laughter of before, and Chan smiled wider. “Come on, join 3racha.”

He regarded Woojin for a moment, all sunlit hair and bruised jaw and tired eyes. “I know my gang is small right now, but- we’re going to be _great_ one day… _I promise you.”_ Woojin tilted his head and took in Chan- tangled curls and gentle hands and determined eyes- before taking a deep breath.

_I promise you-_

“Okay…I’ll join 3racha.”


	3. the first addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* MY PACE KILLED ME HOLY FUCK IM UPLOADING THIS FROM MY GRAVE  
> ok sorry just had to get that out of the way real quick...  
> but yeah this one has even less action sorry BUT I promise more is coming very soon! (also I've really been feeling woochan lately so I had to include more woops)

“Boys, dad’s home! And he’s got a _surprise…._ ”

Jisung gagged, pulling his beanie over his ears as Changbin groaned, “For fuck’s sake, Jesus…” and put his cigarette out on the windowsill cushion. Striding towards the front hallway where he had heard Chan’s voice, Changbin yelled out, “If you refer to yourself as ‘dad’ one more _fucking_ time, I swear to god I will stick my pistol up your-”

He rounded the corner and stopped dead.

“Who the hell is this?”

Jisung ripped his beanie off his ears, turning to look towards the entryway with wide eyes. The 3racha hideout was _sacred-_ they did their best to hide its location from anyone who might want to know, and never let anyone else inside.

So, a stranger in their hideout? That was _unheard of_.

Changbin stood frozen in the entryway, hand wrapped tight around the pistol at his belt and eyes locked on the intruder standing next to Chan. For a single, agonizing second, no one moved, and then- Chan cleared his throat, stepping forward to stand in front of Woojin.

“Changbin- hands off your gun, please.” Changbin didn’t even look at him, “Who the _hell_ is this, Chan-hyung?” he repeated. Chan sighed, “God, you’re terrible with new people, you know that?” Changbin only stared at him incredulously, eyes darting to glare at the stranger over Chan’s shoulder.

_He doesn’t belong here he doesn’t belong-_

_What if he forced Chan to take him here what if-_

Chan exhaled, realizing a longer explanation was needed. “He’s a _friend,_ okay? He doesn’t have me under his control or whatever paranoid situation you’re picturing, alright? Let’s go into the living room and I’ll introduce him to both of you.” Changbin scoffed, “That’s exactly what you would say if he was controlling you,” but took his hands off the gun.

Chan turned away from him, grimacing at the stranger, “Sorry about that, Woojin.” The stranger only nodded and looked back towards Changbin, who had gone back to glaring at him over Chan’s shoulder. Chan turned back and groaned, hitting Changbin on the side of the head.

“Stop that, you idiot- just go into the living room.” Changbin rubbed at the spot where Chan had hit him with an unmistakable pout, but turned and walked away silently. Chan smiled nervously at Woojin, “He’s not always like that, I swear…”

Woojin raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, only following Chan as the other man walked after Changbin. Ducking out of the entryway, they came into the wide open space that made up the majority of the hideout, or the ‘living room,’ as Chan had dubbed it.

Changbin had since retreated back to his windowsill, regarding the stranger with suspicious eyes as Jisung sat up, beanie back in place and eyes wide as they took in this… _stranger_ in their hideout _._ Chan cleared his throat, clasping his hands together as he grinned- first at Woojin and then at the other boys.

“Okay guys, so this Woojin, and- _oh fuck,”_ he whipped around to stare at Woojin, horrified. “Shit, are you older than me? Should I have been calling you hyung?” Chan mentally kicked himself- how could he not have thought about this until now, _god-_ “I was born in ‘97,” Woojin said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched Chan panic.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Chan couldn’t help the tiny, pleased smile that snuck onto his face when he realized that he and Woojin were _age-mates, fuck yeah…_ Chan was no longer the oldest hyung in their little gang. “Me too,” he said quietly, delight bleeding into his tone.

Woojin gave him another glowing smile, and Chan had to steady himself before turning back to the rest of 3racha, who had been watching the exchange unfold in shocked silence. “Okay, so he’s Woojin-hyung to you lot, then!” Chan said happily. “And…he’s agreed to become part of 3racha!”

Jisung and Changbin met each other’s eyes, pure shock reflected in both their gazes. An unspoken- _what the actual fuck-_ passed between them before they both turned to look back at Chan and this… _Woojin person._ For a long moment, the room was silent, until-

“What the FUCK?”

Jisung, of course.

Chan laughed, albeit a bit nervously. “Guys, you know we need more people, and Woojin agreed to help us out and become the fourth member of 3racha!” Jisung lapsed back into disbelieving silence, thoughts racing- _three years of just the three of them, just 3racha… and now all of a sudden Chan just-_ as Changbin dragged narrowed eyes over Woojin’s form.

_He seems oddly familiar…_

Woojin was fairly tall…taller than Chan at least, who was far taller than both Jisung and Changbin- a fact both boys deeply resented. He looked fucking _ripped,_ too- natural strength just oozed from the way he held himself. And his hair…it was a golden blonde that shone under the dim lights, and-

_Wait a minute-_

Blond hair, flashing in the headlights-

A gun pointed straight at Jisung’s back-

_It was him._

In one fluid movement, Changbin sprang to his feet, whipped out the pistol that had been tucked into his belt, and pointed it straight at Woojin. “Step away from Chan-hyung,” he said lowly, dark eyes glinting with anger.

_Blond hair a gun pointed headlights straight at-_

_Jisung Jisung Jisung-_

Woojin didn’t move, instead regarding Changbin with unsettling calm. Changbin carefully shifted to the side until he was standing in front of Jisung, who was still frozen on the couch. “ _Step away from Chan-hyung,_ ” he growled threateningly, finger slipping down to rest on the trigger.

Frozen until now with shock, Chan jumped into action and stepped in front of Woojin quickly to shield him from the gun. “Changbin…calm down,” he said soothingly, knowing that Changbin- while harder to rile up than Jisung- harbored a certain dangerous volatility of his own.

_And the things his parents said to him four nights ago definitely didn’t help-_

“How could you bring him here?” Changbin hissed, the gun lowering slightly when Chan stepped in front of Woojin, but still ready to fire at any moment. Chan furrowed his brow- Changbin was almost never this genuinely hostile- _what was wrong?_ “Woojin won’t hurt you or Jisung…he’s a _friend_!” Chan insisted.

Changbin scoffed, “Oh, so we’re friends with NCT members now, are we? Sorry, hyung- I must’ve missed that memo.” A gasp sounded from the couch, and out of the corner of his eye, Changbin saw Jisung get to his feet beside him, silver knife flashing in his hands. “That’s…” Jisung trailed off, eyes hardening.

_Blond hair in the headlights-_

“You tried to shoot me,” he said to Woojin angrily, clenching the knife harder.

 Realization lit up in Chan’s eyes and he let out a long breath, stepping forward to push the barrel of Changbin’s gun down until it was pointed at the floor. “Guys, he’s-” “I _was_ an NCT member,” Woojin spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. “Not anymore.”

Changbin laughed dryly, “And we’re just supposed to believe that, are we? You _almost shot Jisung_.” His gaze snapped to Chan, and Changbin regarded him carefully, “Hyung, I know you trust people easily, but don’t you think this is taking it too far?” Chan face-palmed, “God…you guys make everything so difficult.”

Taking a deep breath, he made sure both boys’ gazes were on him before he spoke, “You’re right- he almost shot Jisung. And you know as well as I do that he easily could’ve killed him, Changbin. _But he didn’t_ \- he chose not to, and that’s what’s important.” Changbin and Jisung stared at Woojin, suspicion still clear in their eyes.

Woojin sighed, tired of Chan having to defend him. “I know I don’t seem like a very trustworthy person, but you’re just going to have to trust me when I say I’m not here to hurt either of you- or Chan. And you’re just going to have to trust your leader’s judgement that I belong here… or do you not trust him?”

 Changbin and Jisung stared at him, then at Chan- who was looking at them with pleading eyes. Jisung took in the bruises covering every inch of Woojin’s face, his raggedy jacket, the way Chan had one hand stretched back protectively towards Woojin- and he sighed.

Slipping his knife back into its case and stepping around Changbin, he walked over to stand in front of Woojin. “Then I guess I should be thanking you for not shooting me.” And with that, he sunk into a ridiculously deep bow- so low that his beanie slipped off and fell to the ground.

“I owe my _life_ to you,” he said solemnly, voice muffled. Woojin stared at the folded kid in front of him in absolute bewilderment, eyes racing to Chan’s in a desperate plea for help. Chan just sighed and rolled his eyes heaven-ward in a plea for patience.

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Jisung- stand up. God, you’re so embarrassing,” Chan rubbed his temples- he could feel a headache coming on already. Giggling, Jisung righted himself and stuck out his hand, “But seriously- thanks, man. You did me a real solid there.” Chan cringed- _why the fuck did he think letting Jisung talk was a good idea?_

He was about to stride over and drag Jisung away before poor Woojin had to shake his hand, but before he could- _Woojin laughed._ Like- actually, properly laughed for the first time since Chan had met him. The sound was full of warm light and- _damn, Chan was so gone for this guy._

Woojin shook Jisung’s hand, still chuckling. “You’re pretty weird, kid.” Jisung smiled broadly, “Thanks, it’s a natural talent.” Changbin’s gaze, meanwhile, was locked on Chan- who was of course still staring at Woojin. There was something strange in his hyung’s eyes as he looked at the blond, almost like-

_Wait a fucking minute-_

“You just made him join because you think he’s cute,” Changbin whispered suddenly, and Chan whipped around to gape at him, panic clear in his eyes. “What- I- _of course not-!”_ Changbin laughed disbelievingly, “Only you would do this, oh my _god, hyung-”_

Chan gripped Changbin’s arm, grateful that Woojin was successfully distracted by Jisung for the time being. “Hyung needs you to close your _goddamn_ mouth right now, okay Binnie?” he said through gritted teeth, and Changbin rolled his eyes. “You know you’re not remotely scary to me, right-”

“ _Binnie.”_

“Fine, fine- god.” Changbin shook his arm free of Chan’s grasp as the older boy gave him one last glare before turning to smile at Woojin and Jisung. “I just realized I haven’t even introduced you guys to Woojin yet!” He nodded towards the youngest, “The kid you didn’t shoot is Jisung, he’s seventeen. And the kid who almost shot you is Changbin- he’s nineteen.”

He nudged Changbin, who gave a grudging wave. “He likes to pretend he’s intimidating,” added Chan with a grin, and Changbin glared at him before whirling around to retreat back to the safety of his windowsill and cigarettes.

Jisung gave a two-fingered salute before leaping off into the darkness of their back room, no doubt to sharpen his knives once again. Woojin nodded at both of them in turn, before glancing back to Chan with a little bit of uncertainty filtering in his gaze as the other two made their escape.

Chan gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, “They’re just not used to the idea of a new person in the gang...I’m sorry, Woojin- it’s just been the three of us for the past three years, and they-” he cut himself off, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. “All we have is each other, really…”

“It’s alright.” Chan looked up to see Woojin smiling at him- _god, that smile again._ “I don’t blame them, really,” Woojin continued. “I’d be suspicious too if my leader brought a guy home who had tried to shoot me or my gang member a few days ago.”

Chan couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face, “Well, I’m your leader now, and I say you’re trustworthy.” Woojin shook his head, smiling, “You’re just as crazy as the rest of your gang, Chan.” Chan laughed and reached out his hand without thinking, “C’mon, I’ll show you the rest of this absolute mess of a place.”

Luckily, Woojin took his hand without comment, and Chan swallowed hard at the feeling of their interlocked hands- _warm and smooth and so, so right-_

“Let’s start with the kitchen, or as I like to call it- the laboratory.”


	4. the second addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a chapter that has my baby Felix in it!! (the changlix is coming for yall at high speed you best be ready) I needed to have our aussie line meet first but I was kinda worried about this chapter bc I'm making yall wait even longer for more ships... but then I was like fuck it  
>  btw Seoul High is an actual high school guys I'm not that uncreative haha

Felix really didn’t know where he was.

This was a problem.

He had never been to this part of Seoul before, never been anywhere except school and the apartment before. The lights of the unfamiliar shops lining the streets burned in his eyes as car horns blared and passerby shouted, the harsh Korean barely distinguishable to his unpracticed ears, and-

_Does that say ‘nam’ or ‘gam’? Fuck, am I in Gangnam now? Fuck fuck fuck-_

It also didn’t help that Felix could barely read the street signs, their foreign characters twisting into unfamiliar shapes before his eyes ( _goddamn_ he regretted not studying his characters more), and-

-and worst of all, the sun was setting.

Which meant this: in the next half hour, it would be completely dark and Lee Felix would be wandering the streets of Seoul at night, with his phone dead and no _fucking_ idea where he was going, and-

This was a _huge fucking problem._

Chest tight as the beginnings of panic seeped into his limbs, Felix forced himself to take one deep breath, then another, and another- _I can do this._ If he just kept walking, he would eventually run into a place he recognized, right? The high school was sort of near Gangnam, right?

Right?

The sun sunk even lower in the sky, and Felix’s lungs now felt as though they were filled with cement.

_I can do this-_

_Right?_

A couple shoved past him and Felix staggered back, turning to apologize, “Oh, sorr- I mean…m-mianhae-” The couple didn’t even stop, the girl glancing over him at the sound of his stuttered apology and then rolling her eyes. As she turned around and they walked away, a disdained scoff of, “ _Ugh, American,”_ floated over her shoulder.

Felix stood still in the street, staring after them. He wanted to yell after them that he wasn’t American, that _they_ had pushed _him,_ that they should apologize, that- Felix turned back around and stared at the unforgiving city before him. He wanted-

He wanted to go home.

_Home-_

Home where the sun burned warm and constant in the too-blue sky, where mornings meant toast and his mother’s laughter, where life was full of golden light and the sand between his toes-

_I want to go home-_

_I can’t do this anymore-_

_Please-_

Felix didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear dripped from his nose and his eyes refocused, only to find his view of the jarring city lights blurred by tears. Chest aching, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cry here, in public, not like this-

_Fuck, stop crying, Lee! You’re not a kid anymore, stop it now-_

_I want to go home-_

_Stop it now!_

“Gwaenchanh-a?” _Are you okay?_

_Oh fUCK-_

Felix hastily wiped at his eyes and turned to face the stranger who had materialized beside him. Tangled dark curls and warm eyes stood before him, concern painting the stranger’s kind face as he took in Felix- who no doubt looked like death warmed over.

Felix nodded hastily, bowing to the young man deeply- who only continued to stare at Felix appraisingly as he scrubbed at his red eyes once more in a vain attempt to hide the evidence of his tears. Felix pasted on a shaky smile, “I’m fine, thank you.”

There- at least he could say that much in Korean. His accent still came through, strong as ever, but Felix was fairly confident in his basic Korean.

Which meant… the stranger definitely should have understood him. But instead of nodding and walking away, the young man only tilted his head, those same warm eyes seemingly able to pierce straight through Felix and any front he tried to put up.

“Are you lost?” he asked suddenly, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. Felix wanted to lie and say no, say that he was fine, say that he could handle himself, but… something about the careful gaze and gentle voice of this young man made it impossible to lie to him.

Hesitantly, Felix nodded, his eyes dropping to his dirty sneakers in shame. A warm hand landed on Felix’s arm, and his gaze snapped back to the stranger, who was smiling kindly at him. “Don’t worry, I can help you. Where are you headed?”

Felix stared at the man in shock, eyes wide as he ran over the words in his mind- despite already knowing that he had understood the stranger perfectly the first time. _Why is he being so nice to me?_ As the silence stretched out between them, the man looked unsure for the first time.

“I’m sorry, was that too forward? It was, wasn’t it? I should have introduced myself first, sorry- I’m Bang Chan. Mind if I ask your name?” Taking a second to make sense of the sudden fast-paced Korean, Felix shook his head. “N-no, I’m sorry. Ah…thank you, Bang Chan-ssi. My name is Lee Felix.”

He was careful to pronounce each word correctly- hiding his accent to the best of his ability- and was relieved when this Chan-ssi gave him a warm smile in response. “Nice to meet you, Felix-ssi. You can call me hyung if you want, by the way. Now, where are you trying to go?”

Felix furrowed his brow, desperately trying to remember the long, complicated Korean street address of the apartment. No one had ever really bothered to tell him in full- he had just been shuttled back and forth to school on the bus since arriving in Korea.

Which- in retrospect, he probably should have figured that out.

The old panic beginning to creep back into his veins- _fuck what do I do what do I tell him-_ Felix wrung his hands together and stammered, “Yes…uh, I actually…I do not know exactly where…” He hung his head, shame spreading hot through his body as his accented Korean came out jumbled and broken.

_I just want to go home I can’t do this anymore-_

Felix took a shaky breath, preparing himself for Chan to get impatient and scold him, or even to laugh at him ( _just like those kids at school-)_ , but neither of those things happened. Instead…there was silence. The fear in his veins swelled higher as the silence stretched on, until a horrible thought occurred to Felix.

_What if Chan had walked away and left him here?_

Panicked, Felix whipped his head up- only to find Chan still standing in front of him, head tilted. He wasn’t laughing, and he didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked…almost hopeful? “Wait…your accent…” Felix refrained from sighing.

_Oh, he’s just going to ask if I’m American-_

“Are- are you Australian?”

Felix’s jaw dropped. “Yes! How did you know?” A huge grin broke onto Chan’s face, and he laughed, immediately switching to English. “I’m Australian too, mate! This is great- I’ve never met another Australian in Korea before! Where in Australia are you from? Dude, please tell me you’re from Sydney- that’s where I was born!”

_His accent- his English-_

For the first time in weeks, there was an actual human speaking to Felix in his native language, with his own accent. For the first time in weeks, Felix didn’t have to translate every word in his head. For the first time in weeks-

-Felix didn’t feel alone.

_Home-_

And with that, he promptly burst into tears.

_Fuck, here we go again._

“Hey, hey- shhh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…hey, it’s alright,” Switching between panicked English and Korean on every other word, Chan desperately tried to comfort Felix and wrapped a heavy arm around his shoulders. Unable to do anything more than bury his face in his hands and cry, Felix let him.

His quiet sobs were ugly and wet and _fucking embarrassing_ \- but Chan didn’t walk away in disgust. Instead, he just rubbed Felix’s arm and pressed him closer to his side as he continued to make sounds of reassurance in both English and Korean.

Finally, Felix sniffed and pulled away, rubbing his face roughly with the edge of his sleeve and only succeeding in making his skin redder than it already was. “What’d I do wrong, mate?” Chan said gently. Felix shook his head and inhaled shakily.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong- it just…” he let out a watery chuckle. “It just feels _so good_ to hear another Australian speaking in English to me.” And _damn_ did it feel good to reply in English, too. Chan let out a sympathetic sigh, “Homesick, huh? Yeah… I know how that feels.”

Chan took a long look at the kid in front of him. Messy strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, and freckles were scattered endearingly over his cheeks and nose… but his arms were wrapped tightly around himself- as if for protection- and tear tracks streaked down his face.

He looked like-

He looked like a kid who was far from home. A kid who didn’t belong on the twisting, dark streets of Seoul. A kid who could use a little protecting.

A kid who-

“Hey, do you wanna stay with me for tonight?” The words were out of his mouth before Chan could even think about it, and Felix stared up at him with wide eyes. Rushing to explain himself, Chan continued, “I can’t take you back to your place if you don’t know where it is, and- I’m not going to leave you on the streets by yourself.”

Chan gave him another grin, “Besides, us Aussies have to stick together, right?” Felix couldn’t resist smiling a little at that. Chan did seem really nice, and it still felt so good to be able to speak in English comfortably, but- well he didn’t really know this guy, did he?

_What if he’s in a gang and he’s taking me back to his hideout to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? Or force me to smuggle drugs? Is that what gangs even do nowadays?_

Although, looking at Chan now- kind eyes and an easy grin and clad in a horribly orange sweatshirt with the Tide logo on it- he didn’t really look like he could be in a gang. Gang members had to be all menacing and tattooed, right?

_Right?_

Besides, it’s not like Felix had anywhere else to go.

So, he nodded hesitantly. Chan whooped with excitement and dragged Felix into a one-armed side hug. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually say yes, mate! Oh- I can introduce you to my friend Jisung too, he speaks English pretty well…even if he pretends not to be able to most of the time.”

Felix let a small smile creep onto his face. “I’d like that, thanks.” Chan grinned and steered him in the opposite direction down the street. “My place is only a few blocks from here, you can borrow stuff from Jisung- he looks about your size.” Felix nodded and let himself be pulled along.

Walking next to kind, confident Chan, the city streets didn’t seem nearly as menacing, and the night didn’t seem quite as dark to Felix. He felt almost… _safe._ “Hmm…how old are you? I know you’re younger than me, but I would guess…sixteen?” Chan questioned as they walked along.

Felix laughed a bit, “Nope! I’m seventeen.” Chan gave him another once-over, “Really? Damn, usually I’m better at guessing age. Wow, I haven’t cursed in English in so long... Hey, wait!” Felix stopped suddenly, fear shooting through his chest at Chan’s sudden change in tone.

“You’re in the same grade as Jisung!” Felix let out a breath of relief as Chan continued, “Do you go to Seoul High?” Felix’s face lit up with recognition. “Yeah, I do…wait, I think I know a Jisung- or I’ve seen him around the halls, at least.”

Oh, he definitely knew of Jisung. The kid had a famous reputation for defying authority- missing class all the time, talking back to teachers, and even getting in a few fights- so everyone knew who he was, but Felix had never seen him hanging out with anyone in school.

Not like Felix was one to talk- he never hung out with anyone, either.

But that was less because he had a reputation as a rule-breaker and more because most of his interactions with the other students were limited to them mocking his accent and broken Korean, or them deliberately mispronouncing his name.

_Yah, Peligseu- we can help you learn Korean! Here, repeat after me- ‘Felix. Is. Stupid.’ Can you say that? I bet he doesn’t even know what it means, the idiot._

_Yah, how did they even let you in this school- my third grade sister speaks better than you!_

_Yah, stupid-_

Felix didn’t like school much.

He was torn from his thoughts by a hand clapping down on his shoulder as Chan came to a stop beside him. “Well, this is it!” Chan said happily. Felix stared dubiously at the building before him. Squeezed next to a bunch of other similar old stores and run-down apartments, the brick two-story seemed to be some kind of abandoned shop.

Peeling paint spelled out the words, “Jung’s Goods” onto the bricks above the door, and the front windows were boarded up. A lone streetlight shed flickering light onto the shadowed doorstep. In short- it was pretty damn shady.

_Maybe I should rethink that whole ‘part of a gang’ suspicion…_

Chan just grinned happily at the decrepit building before turning to Felix. “All right, let’s go inside!” Felix gulped and tried to appear calm and not at all intimidated by the building before him. Following Chan to the doorstep, he kept his eyes on his dirty sneakers as they shuffled through the door and into the dark entryway.

“Kids…Dad’s home!” Chan called out in Korean, and Felix’s eyes flew wide. _Does this guy seriously have kids? He must be a lot older than he looks…_ Preparing himself for the patter of tiny feet and squeals of small children, Felix carefully took off his shoes and waited, only to hear instead-

“Seriously- this is the last fucking time you call yourself that before I _literally fucking shoot you!_ ” a distinctly male voice yelled out. Felix’s eyes flew even wider as his breathing sped up. He may not know much Korean, but he had definitely understood that. Whoever that was definitely did not sound friendly- _god, what if they shoot me instead?!_

_Maybe- maybe they said something else and I just translated wrong…_

Chan did not seem bothered at all, instead turning to find Felix frozen by the door and smiling at him comfortingly. “What are you still doing over there, mate? C’mon, let’s go introduce you!” _Introduce me to the guy who just threatened to shoot you? No fucking thank you-_

Chan left him no time to argue, instead taking hold of Felix’s arm and pulling him along as they ducked through the entryway and walked into a wide open room. Stumbling into Chan from behind, Felix managed to right himself and looked up to see-

Three guys staring right back at him, matching faces of shock on each of them. Felix shifted uncomfortably before remembering to bow, and stuttered, “A-annyeonghaesayo.” Nerves were skittering through his veins and _fuck_ his accent always came through stronger when he was anxious- they were going to laugh at him for sure.

_Yah, stupid-_

_I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home-_

A sharp-featured guy with pitch-black hair chuckled humorlessly from the windowsill, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. His dark eyes swept over Felix, giving nothing away in their ebony depths as they ran over his body and lingered on his face. The guy smirked, and then opened his mouth to say:

“Really, Chan? Another one?”


	5. the second addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I am so sorry that I haven't updated in so long...I just started college so my life's been pretty crazy recently. anywaysss this chapter is HELLA long to make up for it ((: bits of it are lowkey ooc...but you know what? I don't give a fuck lmao  
> (also you will win Jisung's left eyebrow if you can correctly guess the rap song I reference in the chapter)

Felix was drowning.

_I can’t breathe-_

Black waves crashed down on him relentlessly from above, and the wind was wailing in his ears, and the current was dragging him deeper, and deeper-

_I can’t breathe I can’t breathe-_

Felix was drowning, and-

With a final, desperate gasp escaping from his lips, he was finally tugged below the surface. All of a sudden, the world turned black as water rushed into his lungs. Choking on desperation and seawater, his limbs started to give out from exhaustion, and-

_Oh god please-_

Felix was drowning, and he was going to die.

He was going to die here: in this dark, watery grave. Far away from the sun and far away from home-

_Home-_

_I can’t breathe-_

_I want to go home-_

_I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE-_

“Felix!”

 

Felix jolted awake, sunlight and peeling wallpaper sliding into a distorted mess of confusion as he promptly fell onto the floor. The cracked ceiling above him was worryingly unfamiliar… _where the fuck am I?_ Catching sight of his jacket flung across the floor, the events of last night came rushing back to him.

Felix groaned, rubbing his back where it had hit the floor. _God,_ had he really gotten lost last night and had to be taken in by a stranger? He sighed, wondering if his uncle had even noticed that Felix hadn’t come back to the apartment last night.

The twist in his gut as he thought of the cold, empty apartment- his uncle always out working and his aunt having died years ago- told him probably not.

Without warning, a head popped into view above him and suddenly Felix’s vision was filled with tousled dark hair, knife-sharp features, and stormy black eyes-

_Black waves crashing down from above-_

Changbin.

“Are you-” the older boy’s eyes narrowed before they widened dramatically as he took a closer look at Felix, who quickly rubbed a hand across his cheek to check if- _shit._

There were tears on his cheeks…he must have been crying in his sleep.

_Shit shit shit-_

Felix hastily scrubbed them away and scrambled to sit upright, drawing the blankets around himself protectively. “Um…good morning?” he ventured. The older boy scoffed at him, the flash of concern gone from his eyes before Felix could even convince himself there hadn’t been any in the first place.

“You…stop yelling. Be quiet,” Changbin said shortly in heavily accented English, before standing abruptly and whirling around back to his own bed on the other side of the room. Smarting with embarrassment, Felix forced himself to stand up as well.

Why- out of all the other boys- why did it have to be _Changbin_ to catch him having nightmares? The other boy was by far the most intimidating to Felix, remaining aloof and cold even as the other boys quickly warmed up to Felix and made him feel at home.

To be perfectly honest, Felix didn’t really blame him- having to share your room with a random foreign kid off the street for a night was probably annoying. It didn’t help that he was…just the _tiniest_ bit afraid of this dark hyung who had hardly spoken to him since his arrival late last night.

(It also didn’t help that Changbin… _was really fucking hot._ Like, jawline-sharp-enough-to-cut and hair-the-color-of-the-night-sky kind of hot.)

That slight fear of Changbin only made Felix’s accent worse, making him even harder to understand and even more annoying to talk with. So- Felix didn’t really blame Changbin for not being the friendliest towards him.

(But seriously- _really fucking hot.)_

Taking one last glance at the still form of the dark-haired boy, Felix carefully shuffled out of the room and down the narrow hallway into the living area. Blinking in the sunlight that filtered into the wide room, he caught sight of Jisung fast asleep on the couch.

Meeting Jisung last night…had been surprising, to say the least. Felix had been expecting an effortlessly cool, uncaring rule-breaker from the stories he heard at school, but the person he met last night was…kind of a huge dork.

But like- totally Felix’s kind of dork.

The other boy had talked to him equally enthusiastically in both English and Korean last night, his naturally fast-paced talking and random mixing of the two languages making Felix dizzy. Even still, Jisung’s ever present smile had been warm as he succeeded in making Felix laugh too many times to count.

Felix let a tiny smile sneak onto his face as he looked at Jisung’s tangled limbs, spread all over the couch. It had felt really, really good to just- just _laugh._ Last night was the first time he had really laughed in…god, since leaving home, probably.

“Hey, you’re up!”

Felix whipped around to see Chan grinning in the doorway to the kitchen, a smoking pan in his hand. “I’m making breakfast, you’re just in time!” the older boy called, waving the still-smoking pan around uncaringly.

Felix nervously gestured over at Jisung, not wanting to wake the other boy, but Chan just laughed. “He will literally sleep through an earthquake- and has done so before, actually. Now come on, me and Woojin need help.”

Felix smiled happily at Chan and followed him into the tiny, sun-lit kitchen, where Woojin was preoccupied with shaking the toaster in the corner. “This damn thing hates me,” he grumbled, turning it upside down in an attempt to get the toast to fall out.

Chan came up behind him, grinning at Woojin’s failure. “You just don’t have the magic touch,” he said smugly, before proceeding to take the toaster and set it upright. With a simple twist of his finger to the dial, both pieces of toast popped out immediately...and were completely burnt.

Woojin gaped at Chan before glaring ferociously at the toaster. “The toast wouldn’t be burnt if the _goddamn_ toaster didn’t play favorites,” he growled. Chan chuckled, unconsciously raising a hand and running it comfortingly along Woojin’s shoulders.

“Aw, is someone upset because they don’t know how to use the toaster?” he teased, and Woojin redirected his dark glare from the toaster to Chan. “I do know how to use a fucking toaster, it’s just-” he cut himself off and gave the toaster a vengeful jab.

“You need a new toaster,” he whined, and Chan leaned forward as his hand curled into the fabric of Woojin’s sweatshirt (Felix wondered if Chan even noticed where his hand was at this point). “Are- are you pouting?” Chan said incredulously. Woojin’s face went completely blank before turning bright red.

“Of course not!” he said angrily, turning away. Chan laughed brightly, his hand still fisted securely onto Woojin’s sweatshirt. “You actually are! God, that’s so _cute_ -” he cut himself off immediately, hand jumping away from Woojin as if he had been burned.

Felix smirked into the silence that fell over the kitchen as both his hyungs stared in opposite directions, their faces matching shades of red. “So…what’s for breakfast?” he said finally, deciding to take pity on them. _Silly hyungs…_

Chan cleared his throat as he turned back to his smoking pan on the stove. “Well… it was supposed to be egg toast- you know, like the kind the vendors have on the street. But…” he switched from Korean into English, “since a certain someone lost their battle with the toaster…”

“I may not understand much English, but I know you’re talking shit about me, Bang Chan,” Woojin muttered, having already moved on to making more coffee. Chan winked at Felix and tossed the pan a couple times in an attempt to seem chef-like. “Anyway, now I’m thinking we just go for eggs and rice. Want to fire up the rice cooker?”

Felix nodded, glad to be helpful for once. Bounding over to the bright pink rice cooker on the counter, he began measuring out the rice and water as Chan unsuccessfully flipped eggs next to him and Woojin hummed surprisingly well from the corner.

Standing there in the crowded, bright kitchen…the empty, haunting rooms of his uncle’s apartment seemed a whole world away. And for the first time in a long time, Felix didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

In that moment- _hyungs_ and _sunlight_ and _home-_ he was content.

And then-

“Hyung, coffee. Please.”

A certain dark cloud named Changbin shuffled into the sunny kitchen, looking out of place among the mismatched yet colorful kitchenware in his all-black attire. Felix unconsciously shrunk closer to Chan, eyeing Changbin warily from the corner of his eye as he busied himself with the rice cooker.

_Fuck, okay, he’s still hot- goddammit._

Woojin pressed a steaming mug into Changbin’s hands, eyes scanning over his dongsaeng’s tired face. “Are you sleeping okay?” he asked casually, only for Changbin to roll his eyes. “Chan is already enough to deal with, I don’t need two extra dads,” he complained.

Woojin silenced him with a single sharp look, leaving Chan looking impressed from his vantage point by the stove. Felix, meanwhile, felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Changbin was about to say the reason he hadn’t slept well:

Felix crying in his sleep like the stupid crybaby that he was, and _oh_ _god-_

_I can’t breathe-_

Would Woojin and Chan get mad at him? They wouldn’t, right? But Changbin had definitely seemed mad earlier, and now was his chance to expose Felix. Would…would they laugh at him? He swallowed hard, unable to stomach the mental image of Chan laughing at him.

_Yah, stupid-_

_Stop being such a crybaby, Lee-_

“I slept fine,” Changbin said briskly, draining his mug of coffee. “What’s for breakfast?” Felix gaped at him as Chan launched into a detailed explanation of the toaster’s defeat of Woojin and the subsequent menu change. Woojin interjected indignantly, and soon the two were bickering good-naturedly as Felix continued to stare at Changbin in disbelief.

_Why didn’t he tell them about me?_

_Why didn’t he-_

“What?” Changbin growled, catching Felix’s gaze on him. The younger boy jumped and whirled back around to fiddle with the rice cooker, cheeks burning. _Fuck fuck shit-_ the rice cooker beeped and he jumped again, letting out a squeak of surprise.

A muffled chuckle sounded from behind him, and Felix whirled around only to find both Woojin and Chan still bickering with each other, which left- Changbin was staring hard at his coffee, cheeks just barely dusted a light pink.

Felix narrowed his eyes, but the rice cooker beeped again, and he had to turn back to scoop out the rice. He must have been mistaken- he couldn’t even picture a genuine smile on Changbin’s face, much less him chuckling.

“Is it okay if I take you home after breakfast, Felix?” Chan asked as he turned away from his bickering with Woojin to scoop the eggs onto plates. Felix swallowed hard, thinking of empty hallways and dark rooms and being alone-

_All alone-_

“Y-yeah, that’s fine,” he managed, working hard to keep his voice steady. Chan slid the plates over to him to be filled with rice. “Great! You found the address in your phone, right?” Felix nodded absentmindedly, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut at the thought of going back to the apartment.

“Mmmpf, hyung?” Jisung stumbled into the kitchen next, dark hair impressively tousled from his night on the couch. Eyes still screwed shut, he made his way blindly towards Chan, who easily caught him by the arms and deposited him in the nearest chair.

“Jisung-ah, breakfast will be ready soon,” Chan said in Korean fondly, ruffling the younger boy’s hair even as his head fell forward to rest on the kitchen table with a loud _thump._ Felix hid a giggle behind his hand as Chan caught his eye and grinned.

“Jisung doesn’t really wake up until past noon- he’s useless in the mornings,” Chan explained in English, unrestrained affection filtering into his tone. Felix forced a smile in response, an unexplainable ache suddenly pulsing in his chest at the sight of the endearment written all over Chan’s face.

_What does that feel like- to be cared for so deeply-_

_What does it feel like?_

Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, Felix gathered up the plates from the counter and followed Chan to the table, where Changbin was passing out chopsticks (or in Jisung’s case, throwing the chopsticks at his head) and Woojin was pouring more coffee.

Once a plate full of food was slid in front of him, Jisung raised his head a little, eyes blinking in the bright light as he inhaled. “Ah, he awakens at last,” Woojin teased, and Jisung only crinkled his nose at him before picking up his chopsticks and proceeding to shove rice in his mouth.

Felix sat next to Chan, quietly eating his eggs and _definitely not_ sneaking glances at the way Changbin’s hair gleamed in the morning light. The sounds of clinking chopsticks and the other boys’ chatter trickled around him, and Felix just tried to let himself enjoy this before he had to go back to-

Dark hallways empty rooms all alone all alone _alone_ -

And that was when the phone rang.

Immediately, each of the other boys snapped their mouths closed, chopsticks clattering onto plates as their eyes darted to land on Chan, who leaped up to answer the phone. Felix looked at the suddenly statue-like boys around him with wide eyes as Chan picked up the phone in the other room.

The sound of his voice was muffled, but it didn’t stop the three other boys from leaning closer to the wall in order to hear him better. Felix furrowed his brow- what the hell was going on? What could be so important about a phone call?

Exactly two minutes later, Chan came back into the room, his face grave.

“We have to go. Now.”

His voice held no room for argument, and Felix watched in awe as each of the other boys immediately nodded and jumped to their feet. Dishes were thrown in the sink with a clatter before they all darted off in separate directions, leaving Felix alone with Chan.

Chan gazed at the wall, eyes distant as Felix stared at him in confusion. “Um…did I miss something?” Felix ventured in English. Chan started, eyes focusing on Felix as if just now seeing him. “Oh sorry, mate…yeah, uh- something came up. I can’t take you home right now, I’m so sorry.”

This was the first time Felix had seen Chan look this serious, and he nodded in response, “No, that’s fine- I get it. Um- is it okay if I stay here, though? I don’t really-” he broke off, shame spreading hot within him.

_I don’t have anywhere else to go._

Chan took a quick step forward, hand coming up to rest on Felix’s shoulder. “No, of course! Of course you can stay here, Felix.” He shook his head, smiling. “You didn’t think I would just kick you out, did you? What happened to Aussies sticking together, mate?”

Felix couldn’t help the bright grin that broke out onto his face, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. “Y-yeah, I mean…” He trailed off, relief washing over him in cool waves as he thought about the fact that he didn’t have to go back to-

Empty rooms dark hallways so cold so _alone_ -

Not yet, anyway.

Chan squeezed his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile before backing away once more. “Alright- I have to go get ready, but you’re free to eat as much as you like, okay? We think the TV might be possessed, so don’t try to turn it on…but the radio should work fine.”

Felix nodded, smiling. “Okay, hyung.” With one last grin, Chan disappeared into the hallway, leaving Felix to sigh before turning to glare at the dishes in the sink. Well, they did let him stay here all night… _fucking fine, I’ll do the dishes._

He was still elbow-deep in soap suds when a series of footsteps stampeded into the living room, and Felix peeked his head around the corner to see all four of the other boys there. Except- they looked a hell of a lot different than the guys he had just eaten breakfast with.

Black clothing blended their outlines into the shadows, beanies pulled low over foreheads and boots laced up to the ankles. Determination was set into the lines of their shoulders, and there was no mistaking the look in each of their eyes-

These weren’t boys anymore.

They had transformed into- into _soldiers._

Four teenaged boys with fire in their eyes and weapons in their hands and- and they were _soldiers._

_What the actual fuck?_

Felix gaped from the doorway, unable to make sense of the sight before him, and _was Jisung actually holding a knife_ and _was that a fucking gun strapped to Changbin’s thigh_ and-

_Fuck, he’s even hotter now, what the fuck-_

Okay, so this was new.

Chan stood in front of the other three, gaze steely as he took them in for a long moment before nodding in approval. “Okay, let’s move,” he commanded- and with that, all four boys walked out of the house, strides steady and backs straight with purpose.

Right, so- _what the fuck just happened?_

 

 

Felix fiddled with the dial on the ancient radio set on the table before him, trying in vain to find at least one channel with music in English. Finally giving up in a huff, he turned the dial back to its original position (the hip hop station) and let the song play.

Most of the rapping was too fast and too slurred for him to catch anything more than the gist of it, but one line repeated itself over and over in his head: _run away from yourself and you don’t know the way home-_

And then-

_there’s no way home-_

Felix switched off the radio, swallowing hard.

He looked around the living room with a sigh. The sun had just begun to set, washing everything in golden light and making it look like more than just a cluttered room in an abandoned shop. He wriggled further into the corner of the couch, the undeniable warmth of this place filtering through his veins.

As happy as he was that he didn’t have to go back to his uncle’s apartment yet, the reason for that still flashed in stark black letters across the backs of his eyes: the other boys hadn’t come back yet. They had left that morning, and _they still weren’t back._

An image of the steel in Chan’s eyes from that morning flashed in his mind’s eye suddenly and Felix groaned. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his head all day: the way they had just transformed into… _stop it, Lee._

Try as he might though, there was no stopping the undeniable questions shooting through his mind. Where had they gone? Why were they carrying weapons? Just who were these guys?

Shaking his head in frustration, Felix was about to raid the kitchen for dinner…when the front door slammed open with a crash. Jumping to his feet, Felix could only stare in shock as Changbin burst through the door, wild-eyed and bloody.

_Wait, bloody?!_

Woojin and Chan barreled in after him, both equally as disheveled and cradling a crumpled form between them. A messy-haired, crumpled form that… _looked a hell of a lot like Jisung._

_Oh god-_

“Here, put him here!” Changbin yelled, ignoring Felix in favor of sprinting to the kitchen and sweeping everything off the table with one arm. Amidst the succeeding crashes, Chan and Woojin dragged Jisung over to lay him on top of the table.

“Jisung, oh god _Jisung_ -” Changbin’s voice broke as he stared down at the broken boy below him. Jisung was barely breathing, eyes screwed shut as tiny whimpers of pain escaped from his mouth whenever his body was shifted slightly.

_Oh god please-_

_Jisung Jisung Jisung-_

“You idiot,” Changbin hissed, even as his vision blurred with tears. “You _idiot-”_ Chan shoved him out of the way, jaw locked with tension as he looked over Jisung. “Either be helpful or get out of the way,” he ordered, and Changbin nodded furiously before swiping at his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry-” Chan barely heard him, mind completely focused on _Jisung help Jisung bullet wound protect him protect him he’s so goddamn young Jisung Jisung please god-_

His hands were shaking.

_Only seventeen- please-_

Jisung’s blood pooled onto the kitchen table.

_I can’t lose him-_

_Please-_


	6. the second addition pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew this is another long one...sorry? you're welcome? yeah, idk either...I just really have been feeling the urge to write this story so much lately and so this chapter happened. anyways, I added a platonic changsung tag bc I've noticed how many changsung scenes I've been including...lmao I just love their friendship so much woops

There were too many of them.

Changbin knew this, and he could see the same realization darken in Woojin’s eyes. No matter how distrustful he had been of Woojin when Chan first dragged through the guy through their front door, he had to admit- the guy was freakishly competent.

_There’s too many of them- what do we do-_

The call to hit up this stash that morning had been unexpected, to say the least- but when your gang is made up of four guys and a rusty old Hyundai…well, you take what you can get.

Except now they were stuck sneaking through a maze of storage shelves, trying to navigate their way to the stash while dodging the rather unnecessary amount of guards situated around every corner. There was no way they were going to make it out without casualties.

Changbin could only hope that none of those casualties would be on their side.

With a nod from Woojin, the two split up at the next fork as Chan whispered frantic directions in their ears. They had been here too long already- every second was a step closer to being discovered, and-

_Get in, get the stuff, get out. Simple._

Changbin forced himself to take a deep breath before he cautiously rounded the corner to suddenly find- _the stash._

“Found it- I found it!” he whispered breathlessly into his Bluetooth. With affirmatives in his ears from both Jisung and Woojin that they were moving in closer to where he was, Changbin inched towards the stash, his heart pounding.

_Please god- just a little closer- please-_

His hand stretched towards the nearest pack of guns, and-

“Son of a _bitch!”_

Changbin skittered backwards, desperately leaping for the safety of the maze, but- a meaty hand caught his arm and pulled him back _hard._ He came face to face with a too-wide smile and beady eyes as the guard tightened his hold on Changbin’s wrist, his bones grinding together sickeningly.

_Fuck fuck fuck-_

Alarm bells started to scream overhead.

“Finally got you, little rat,” the man spat, hand darting out to grasp Changbin’s other hand tightly when the boy tried to reach the pistol strapped to his thigh. “Where are the rest of your little rat friends, huh?” the man leered, face too close to Changbin’s and beady eyes venomous-

The alarms overhead were pounding in his ears.

_Fuck please god-_

“Let me _go!”_ Changbin growled, uselessly twisting his body in the larger man’s crushing hold. The man only ground the bones of his wrists harder, causing Changbin to gasp in pain. Chan was talking frantically in his ears, telling Woojin and Jisung what to do.

Changbin didn’t bother listening, but he hoped Chan was smart enough to tell them to hold off. If they tried to rescue him now, they would only get caught themselves- and then everything would _really_ go to shit.

_Oh fuck please let us get out of here okay-_

The bones in his wrists were twisted even tighter, and Changbin couldn’t help the pathetic whimper of pain that escaped him. Panic thrummed through every nerve in his body as the pain sparked through him and the goddamn alarm bells were _so loud-_

A rustle of movement sounded from behind a shelf, and Changbin didn’t even have time to blink before- an explosion of flashing knives and dark hair descended upon the guard from behind.

_Motherfucking Jisung-_

Of fucking course the younger boy hadn’t listened to Chan’s instructions.

Just then, the hold on Changbin’s wrists disappeared- and he whirled around to see Jisung dodging the guard’s punches, knives flashing silver-bright in his hands as he threw them with perfect aim at the guard’s face and stomach.

_Okay, maybe he’s kind of useful._

Shaking off the clutches of panic, Changbin immediately grabbed his pistol, flipping open the strap and whipping the gun up to aim right at the guy’s feet, and- _Bang! Bang!_

Just like that, the guy was down.

“The second shot was for calling me a rat,” Changbin spat at the writhing guard on the floor before grabbing a grinning Jisung by the arm and dragging him into the maze. They needed to get out of here, and _quick._

“That was stupid,” Changbin panted as he and Jisung tore through the maze towards the exit in a desperate race against the guards who were no doubt trailing them. “You could have gotten captured too, and now we have no chance of making it out of here.”

_BANG!_

“But I didn’t get captured, did I?” Jisung countered with a grin as he ducked out of the way of the shot that came at him from behind. The guards were gaining on them. “And, hyung-”

_BANG! BANG!_

Both boys skidded around a corner, barely making it out of the two bullets’ paths. “I don’t think now is really the time for a lecture,” Jisung continued breathlessly. Changbin didn’t have time to respond as both boys sprinted for the exit that was now in sight.

_So close- please-_

_BANG!_

They ducked another shot.

Woojin was already at the exit, waving them on hurriedly as he kept his eye out for guards on either side. Jisung and Changbin sped up, keeping perfect pace with each other- a skill that had been honed from years of stealing together.

_Almost there- almost- please- just a little more-_

_BANG!_

Jisung fell to the ground.

 

Before Chan-

Before Chan, Changbin was only this: expensive soju burning his tongue, cigarette smoke clinging to his designer jackets, and- _emptiness._

Can a person be made of emptiness? Total nothingness?

Changbin would say yes.

_A boy full of nothing-_

Because that’s what he was back then- before Chan. A shadow of a person, barely held together by the seams of his skin. A hollow shell to be filled by his parents, taken apart regularly and stuffed full with:

_our only son- do not disappoint us- you are nothing without us- spoiled- ungrateful- only son-_

And then he was stitched right back up and abandoned in their empty mansion while his parents jetted off to an important meeting with whatever company on whatever faraway continent.

And over and over again.

_Emptiness-_

_A boy full of nothing-_

Before Chan-

Before Chan, Changbin was a dead boy walking.

And then came Jisung- with a smile just as empty as Changbin’s, but twice as large.

He was the opposite of Changbin, the opposite of a boy full of nothing. Jisung was a boy full of _everything._ Every emotion, every experience was felt too deeply- enough to skin him raw every time and leave him shaking because the world was _always too much-_

All he did was try to escape from himself, try to escape from _too much_ by getting high off adrenaline and drunk off soju.

They had that in common, at least.

_A boy full of nothing-_

_A boy full of everything-_

Dead boys walking together.

But then there was Chan, and-

 

Jisung was too still.

It almost hurt to look at him, lying there on the bed. Jisung wasn’t supposed to be this still. Jisung was too full of energy, too full of life, too full of _everything_ all the time to be this still.

He wasn’t supposed to be lying on this bed, crimson blood still seeping slowly out of him and staining the bandage wrapped around his torso. It wasn’t fucking _right. Nothing’s fucking right anymore._

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Changbin whispered to Jisung’s motionless body. “A goddamn-” his voice broke off as a lump rose in his throat, and he cut himself off. If only Jisung wasn’t so reckless. If only Jisung would listen to Chan’s fucking instructions.

If only Changbin hadn’t gotten caught.

If only Changbin had protected him.

If only-

_All my fault-_

He slid trembling fingers into Jisung’s hand, grasping onto the unconscious boy like a lifeline. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathed out shakily. “It’s all my fault, Jisung...please forgive hyung.”  He swallowed hard, Jisung’s unmoving features swimming in his vision as helpless tears welled up in his eyes.

_All my fault all my fault all my fault-_

“Hyung is so fucking sorry-”

The door creaked open.

Changbin’s head shot up to see messy blonde hair and warm eyes and _fucking_ freckles shuffle into the room- _goddamnit._

Felix. Of course.

Changbin dropped his gaze to Jisung’s unmoving body, trying to hide any evidence of his tears as he gripped Jisung’s hand tightly. Fucking hell, why of all people did it have to be _Felix_ who saw him like this-

_Felix,_ who had walked in the door yesterday and stopped Changbin’s heart with one look, whose stuttered greeting and gorgeous eyes had terrified Changbin so much that he had had to make a sarcastic comment just to pretend like he hadn’t just been run over with a fucking truck.

_Felix,_ with a laugh full of sunlight and a distinct softness in his every movement and- _fuck, not this again. Fucking stop it right now, Seo Changbin._

_You are not allowed to ruin people like this, not anymore._

“U-um, Changbin-ssi?”

Changbin’s head snapped back up to see Felix now standing uncertainly beside him, strands of honey-blonde hair falling over his face, and- it was all Changbin could do to stop himself from brushing them away gently with his fingers- _stop it now!_

“I just wanted to see if Jisung’s okay…” Felix said hesitantly, accent thick in his stumbling Korean. Yeah, that was another big problem- _his fucking accent, fuck-_ “He’ll be fine,” Changbin said shortly, unwilling to entertain the thought of Jisung not being okay.

“Right, of course,” Felix said quickly, hands twisting together as he stared at the tight grip Changbin had on Jisung’s hand. “Sorry, I just…” Felix trailed off, and Changbin kind of wanted to punch himself- like really hard, in the face.

He sighed and forced himself to meet Felix’s gaze, swallowing hard at the fear in the younger’s eyes. _Changbin had put that fear there._ “No, it’s okay. It was nice of you to check on him,” Changbin said carefully, making sure to slow down his words a bit so that Felix would have no trouble understanding him.

The younger boy nodded and gave him a grateful smile, tentative yet full of honeyed light, and _oh god-_ Changbin tore his gaze away with effort, his breathing shallow.

_He is too warm too soft you are not allowed to ruin him you are not allowed-_

_Stay away from this boy, Seo Changbin._

He curled his hands into fists, nails biting into his skin as he closed his eyes tight. _Oh god oh god oh god-_ “Can you…” his blood was rushing in his ears, and he _couldn’t breathe oh god_ \- “Can you please just go?” The words rushed out of him before he could stop them.

_Now see what you’ve done-_

Changbin felt Felix stiffen beside him, and he wanted nothing more than to really, actually punch himself in the face. Really fucking hard. He deserved it. And yet, Changbin stayed silent and didn’t offer up an apology- even as he felt Felix draw further away from him.

“Y-yeah, I’ll just…go.” The younger boy’s voice radiated hurt and confusion, but he did what Changbin asked- _of course_ \- and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him quietly. Changbin deflated, eyes fluttering open to land on Jisung’s features.

But of course, he had expected this. It only helped to prove that Seo Changbin did not belong within five miles of Lee Felix.

_Stay away from this boy, Seo Changbin._

_You will do nothing but ruin him._

 

Felix had no idea what the hell was going on anymore.

Like, at all.

Only hours earlier, Jisung had been bleeding out onto the kitchen table, completely still as frantic chaos filled the kitchen in the form of three panic-stricken boys.

Changbin, silent tears slipping down his cheeks as he fumbled for bandages and alcohol and- whatever else Chan was shouting for in Korean frantically.

Chan, a whirlwind of movement as he tried to stop the bleeding and make sure Jisung was still breathing, hands shaking and eyes full of steel as he fought hard to keep his composure.

And Woojin, who could only stand, frozen- his face white and eyes far away as he stared at the blood bubbling out of Jisung’s side. It didn’t look like he was even breathing.

“Woojin- _Woojin!”_

Chan’s hands were suddenly on Woojin’s shoulders, shaking the other boy until his gaze snapped into focus. “Sorry, I’m sorry- I just-” For the first time since meeting him, Felix watched as Woojin stumbled over his words, his voice trembling.

Chan stared hard into Woojin’s eyes. “I know this is hard for you, but- Jisung needs you, Woojin.” Chan’s hands curled tight into the fabric of Woojin’s sleeves as he took a deep breath. “I can’t heal him without your help. We need you here.”

Woojin couldn’t look away from Chan’s gaze.

“I need you, Woojin.”

The taller boy finally nodded, swallowing hard before following Chan back to the table where Changbin had finally managed to stop the bleeding. Woojin shook his head, “We need to get the bullet out, or else it’ll get infected. Get the alcohol.”

And so the whirlwind of movement began again, this time with Woojin in the mix.

Felix could do nothing but stand frozen to the side, knowing he wouldn’t be able to help and afraid to ask how any of this had happened. His mind was blank with fear and panic, save for one question: how in the _hell_ did Jisung get shot?

And why couldn’t they take him to the fucking hospital?

It hadn’t been the time to ask then, and once Jisung’s wound had been treated they had put him to bed, and then there was the business of cleaning the blood off the kitchen table, and then- Chan and Woojin had disappeared.

Which- okay, Felix couldn’t even let himself begin to wonder about that right now.

And then when he had tried to check on Jisung, there had been that whole _thing_ with Changbin- the older boy’s eyes full of dark waves and pain when he looked at Felix, his hand white-knuckled as it grasped Jisung’s, and his voice- steady but quiet as it told him to leave.

Which had kind of really fucking hurt, actually.

So, in conclusion: it was all a mess.

It was all a giant mess, and Felix was stumbling about in the middle of it- hopelessly lost in this strange world where boys bled onto kitchen tables and secrets dripped in every corner.

He turned at the sound of soft murmuring coming from down the hallway- Chan and Woojin, no doubt. Filled with a sudden determination to get at least some of his questions answered, Felix strode down the hallway, halting in front of the half-open door to Chan’s room.

“ _God_ \- I’m so sorry, Chan.” Woojin’s voice, coated in pain and guilt. “I don’t know what was wrong with me- seeing Jisung there on the table…for a second, he looked just like-” Woojin’s voice broke off in an unmistakable sob, followed by the sound of Chan hushing him gently.

“Shh, it’s alright…I don’t blame you for freezing up, Woojin.” Chan’s voice brimmed with exhaustion, but his tone was full of soft warmth when he spoke to Woojin. “It’s alright…I’m really proud of you, you know. You got past that and helped us- helped Jisung.”

There was a quiet sniffle, followed by soft reassurances from Chan. “It’s okay, I’m here…I’m not going anywhere.”

Utterly confused but starting to feel guilty for listening in on a conversation he had no part of, Felix knocked on the door quietly. A few moments later, it swung open to reveal Chan: his eyes hopelessly tired and his curls an absolute mess from running his hands through them.

“Oh, Felix- what’s up?” Felix’s gaze dropped to his shoes before a spark of determination lifted his eyes to Chan’s. He needed to know what the hell was going on, and now.

“Chan, please- tell me what’s going on. Why is Jisung hurt? Where did you guys go all day? I’m sorry, I just- please don’t leave me in the dark.” Chan sighed deeply, eyes slipping closed briefly before he gave Felix a once-over and sighed.

“Yeah, you deserve to know. Come on in.” He stepped back to allow Felix into his room, where Woojin was perched on the side of the bed, gazing at his hands in his lap. Upon hearing the sound of Felix entering the room, he looked up and smiled before gesturing for Felix to sit beside him.

Felix gave him a grateful smile before doing so, leaning slightly against his hyung as Chan sat down in the chair across from them. His eyes were solemn as he began to talk in English to make sure Felix understood perfectly. “I need you to understand that what I am about to tell you…you can’t tell anyone else, got it?”

Felix gulped, fear starting to skitter down his spine. Woojin’s arm came up around his shoulders to squeeze them slightly for comfort, and Felix took a deep breath before nodding. “I…I understand.”

Chan nodded and leaned forward, the steel from earlier back in his eyes as he stared straight at Felix.

“Woojin, Jisung, Changbin, me…we’re in a gang.”


	7. the third addition?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha woops it's another monster chapter...currently feel like shit so hopefully this chapter is okay and I'm not just delirious haha   
> i was just getting really tired of not having a certain someone in this story.....(;  
> p.s. thank you thank you thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos- they motivate me to write so much!

_We’re in a gang-_

_We’re in a gang, Felix-_

Felix wasn’t totally sure his lungs were still working.

Gang members beat up innocent people and fought with each other and sold drugs and broke the law and- _oh god._ Felix stared hard at Chan- whose tired eyes were watching him carefully, and then at Woojin- whose arm was still warm around his shoulders.

How could they be in a _gang?_

There was kindness in Chan’s every movement, and familiar comfort in Woojin’s very presence, and Jisung was just a fucking _dork,_ but- _we’re in a gang._

Even Changbin, with his coal-black hair and achingly sad eyes- even he didn’t seem like he could beat up someone.

That would explain the weapons though, and the dark clothes, and the fact that they lived in an abandoned store, and even that Jisung had spent the night bleeding out onto the kitchen table- that would explain all of it.

_But even still-_

“Felix?”

Felix’s gaze snapped back to Chan, who had leaned forward and was looking at him worriedly. “Are you okay?” he asked, and Felix nodded jerkily before staring at his hands, twisted in his lap. Woojin’s arm tightened around his shoulders, as if he could feel Felix’s inner panic.

_We’re in a gang, Felix-_

_I can’t breathe-_

“Felix, please- can you talk to me?” Chan said, his hand coming forward to rest on Felix’s knee. Without thinking, Felix flinched away from Chan’s hand, and- _oh shit._ The older boy snatched his hand back, turning away before Felix could see the shocked hurt in his eyes.

Chan felt something in his chest clench at the sight of Felix flinching away from his touch, the younger boy’s kind brown eyes wide with- with _fear._

_He’s scared of you now, scared because you’re a criminal-_

Chan cleared his throat, looking everywhere but Felix. “Sorry, um- anyway. I understand that this is kind of shocking, but- I promise we won’t hurt you, Felix. I _promise-_ we would never. Please understand that.” He looked back at Felix, dark brown eyes earnest.

The younger boy could only nod- he wasn’t _scared_ of them. It was just…surprising. Woojin sighed, tucking Felix closer to his side, until he could hear the vibrations in Woojin’s chest when the older boy began to speak.

“Chan and I know the word ‘gang’ sounds scary, but you have to know you’re safe, alright? And you also have to know how important it is that you don’t tell anyone. Our safety could be compromised if you do that.” Felix nodded into Woojin’s chest, comforted by the older boy’s warmth.

“I won’t,” he finally said in a small voice. And he knew he wouldn’t. As shocking as it was that they were in a gang, they were still the kindest people he had met in a long time. Being with them had made Felix the happiest he had been since leaving home, really.

_But even still-_

“We don’t hurt innocent people, Felix,” Chan said after a stretch of silence. “We just-” he broke off, gaze falling to the floor before he continued speaking in a low voice. “Look…I had to start living on the streets at a young age, and this- this became my survival. I hope you can try to understand.”

Felix couldn’t imagine a young Chan, lost and afraid in the dark streets of Seoul- just as Felix had been two nights ago. How had he survived like that? How could anyone?

Felix took in Chan for a minute, the exhaustion lining his shoulders and the sadness hiding in the creases of his skin. There were so many secrets wrapped tight around this boy, so many stories of cruelty he would never burden anyone else with- how did he live like that?

_Are you okay?_

_Do you wanna stay with me for tonight?_

_I promise we won’t hurt you- we would never-_

Felix made a decision in that moment.

He would stay with Chan and them, no matter what.

_Aussies have to stick together, right?_

“Listen, while we would never hurt you- being associated with a gang can be unsafe at times, even with a gang as small as ours,” Chan started slowly, twisting his hands together. “So I understand if you don’t want to hang around with us because of that…it would probably be for the better, actually-”

_No-_

His decision had been made, but- _what if they don’t want me?_

_Yah, stupid-_

“Please don’t leave me alone,” Felix whispered.

Both Chan and Woojin stared at him, and Felix’s gaze dipped in embarrassment- _okay, did you have to say it all pathetic like that, really-_ but he forced himself to keep talking. “Please, don’t make me stay away from you all. Coming here has been the first time I’ve felt okay since leaving home, and-”

_Empty rooms and cold hallways and alone alone alone-_

He took a shuddering breath, “I can’t go back to how it was before.”

_I want to go home please let me go home-_

“…please don’t make me.”

To his absolute horror, Felix felt a tear slip down his cheek- _fucking hell, again?_ He choked back a sob, turning into Woojin’s broad chest to hide his tears. Shame warmed his cheeks- _can’t even go a day without breaking down, seriously-_

Suddenly, warm arms encircled him from the other side- _Chan._ Giving up on hiding from his hyungs, Felix let his tears slip freely onto Woojin’s shirt as both older boys wrapped their arms around him, each whispering words of reassurance in both English and Korean.

“We won’t leave you alone, Felix.”

“We promise.”

 

That afternoon, Jisung woke up.

Changbin punched him on the shoulder _hard_ before promptly bursting into tears and storming out of the room.

Chan gave Jisung a gentle hug before launching into a lecture on listening to his hyungs and not scaring them like that ever again- until Woojin kindly shut him up before ruffling Jisung’s hair and telling him “it’s a good thing you didn’t die, or me not shooting you would’ve been a waste.”

Felix just grinned and tackled Jisung in a tight hug, paying no mind to Chan’s panicked yelp of, “Careful, he’s still healing!” Jisung wrapped his arms tighter around Felix, leaning down to whisper, “Bro- you’ve gotta get Chan out of here before he tries to tuck me in or some shit.”

Felix just laughed, snuggling into his friend’s side. The bedroom was bright with sunlight, and Jisung was _okay_ and _alive_ , and Chan was smiling as he leaned against Woojin, and Changbin had finally decided to reenter, a tiny smile lighting up his eyes before he could hide it, and-

This was _home_.

Felix had come home.

 

 

“I fucking hate calculus.”

Felix looked up from the blur of Korean characters on the page before him just in time to see Jisung throw down his pencil in favor of flicking open his pocket knife, the silver blade flashing in the afternoon sun.

He spent every afternoon and nearly every night at Jung’s Goods nowadays, poring over homework with Jisung or watching as the others went about their routine gang activities. If he was lucky, he would get to watch Chan and Woojin spar for practice, each of them awe-inspiring fighters.

If he was _really_ lucky, he got to watch Changbin during his shooting practices. There was an undeniable grace in the way the older boy drew the gun, hands steady and eyes focused- and a horrible beauty in the bullet finding its target perfectly every time.

Right, and Changbin was still _really_ fucking hot. There was that.

“This shit is so pointless,” Jisung groaned, leaning back in his chair. Felix rubbed a hand over his face before looking back down at the page before him and deciding it was pure gibberish. “Why are we even bothering to do homework again?” Jisung complained.

“Because your education is fucking important!” Chan yelled from the other room, where they could hear him typing away at his laptop furiously. “But Changbin-hyung isn’t doing any homework!” Jisung complained, and Felix looked over at the older boy, who was cleaning his pistol.

“Because I already passed calculus, and I only need two more credits to graduate,” Changbin said smugly from his seat on the couch, and Jisung pouted. “Can you help me with mine, then?” he pleaded. Changbin merely smirked, amused at the very thought.

“Please, Binnie-hyung?” Jisung’s pout intensified, and Felix knew immediately that if there wasn’t an intervention, Jisung would try to _act cute-_ something that had to be avoided at all costs. “Wait, wait-” he grabbed Jisung’s hands before they could form hearts.

“No- _hyung,_ please help! You know what he’ll do...” Changbin rolled his eyes but stood up, muttering, “For fuck’s sake-” as he made his way over to the table. He bent down between Felix and Jisung, and Felix gulped at the proximity, dark hair and the scent of gunpowder mixed with cedar wood filling his senses.

_Oh, fuck, okay- stay calm, stay calm._

Changbin had warmed up to him little by little, but he couldn’t help admitting that the older boy still made him nervous- and yet, Felix was still impossibly, inexplicably drawn to him and those sad eyes.

_Black waves crashing-_

“You need help with yours, Felix?” The sudden question came from right next to Felix, who jumped and looked over to see that Changbin _was looking directly at him._ “U-um,” Felix tore his gaze from the dark waves in Changbin’s eyes with effort.

He looked down at his paper and sighed. “Hyung, I really don’t know what half of these words mean. I think my teacher is just writing random Korean characters at this point to confuse me.” His Korean had improved by a lot since he started actually talking to people, but schoolwork wasn’t much easier.

Changbin hummed lowly as he looked over Felix’s paper, and Felix had to force his heartbeat to slow down at the rough, warm sound. “Well, it’s biology,” he finally concluded, and Felix let his head flop onto the table in defeat.

“I know it’s biology, because that’s the fucking class I’m taking,” he muttered, and Changbin tsked. “Don’t be a smartass…this part is all about- um. Jisung, what’s the English word for this shit?” Felix sat back up to see Jisung look over and frown.

“Hmm…protein paths? Protein roads?” Jisung tried, and Felix sat up straighter. “Wait, protein pathways?” he asked, and Jisung nodded. “Yeah, that’s it!” Felix sighed in relief- he knew what those were, _thank god_.

“Thanks, Jisung,” he said before turning to Changbin with a bright smile. “Thank you, Changbin-hyung!” The older boy looked away quickly, cheeks just barely tinging pink. “Uh, sure,” he said shortly, before turning abruptly and going back to the sofa.

And that was when the phone rang.

Felix and Jisung met each other’s eyes immediately, both boys looking up from their homework as Changbin stood up from the couch, gun forgotten. The murmurs of Chan’s low voice as he talked to the caller filtered through the walls, but his words were muffled.

That is, until he started yelling.

Which- Chan didn’t yell. Changbin and Jisung knew for this for a fact. He got frustrated and annoyed, and sometimes he snapped at them because they were little shits- but he didn’t yell. Until now, apparently.

“A deal is a deal, Lee! You can’t just- _hey!”_

There was a thud as Chan slammed the phone onto the desk, and Jisung’s eyes widened as he met Changbin’s gaze. _What was that all about?_

“Let’s go.”

Chan had appeared in the doorway, uncharacteristic anger lining his features. The three other boys could only stare at him, shocked. “Our buyer from the NCT stash has been refusing to pay me for weeks now, and- I’ve fucking had _enough._ ”

Suddenly, Woojin came up behind Chan to rest a comforting hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Chan visibly relaxed at the contact, features softening as he turned to look at Woojin. “We need to go, Jin,” he said almost pleadingly, and the other boy nodded- his eyes intent on Chan’s features.

“Okay. Let’s go, then.”

And with that, Felix watched as 3racha sprung into action- packing weapons, dressing in dark clothes, the works. Having become used to it, he merely watched as his friends prepared themselves for anything- just like he always did.

Which- okay, he was getting a little tired of just watching. It’s not that he wanted to break the law or anything, but after watching countless times as the boys who had become his family readied themselves for danger- it was getting harder to stay behind.

He wanted to help them, _be with them-_

_We won’t leave you alone-_

“Can…can I come?”

The room was deadly silent after Felix’s soft question, and he squirmed uncomfortably. “I want to help,” Felix continued, hoping that if he kept talking one of them would unfreeze and answer him. Which worked, but not in the way he had hoped.

“Absolutely not.”

Felix whipped around to see Changbin strapping his pistol on nonchalantly, acting as though he hadn’t just rejected him outright. Felix swallowed hard- _not good enough, you’re not good enough, he doesn’t want you around-_ but tightened his hands into determined fists.

“But, hyung-” he started, only to be cut off by Chan. “Binnie’s right, Felix-ah,” the older boy said gently. “It’s not safe…we don’t know this guy’s history- he’s a new buyer. Anything could happen, and it’s better for you to stay here and make sure we don’t get broken into.”

Felix stared hard at his hands, shame burning his cheeks at Chan’s painfully gentle let-down. _It’s because they don’t want you around, it’s because you’re useless useless useless-_ Jisung squeezed his shoulder, and Felix looked up to see the other boy smiling at him encouragingly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon.” With a cursory look to make sure the other gang members were occupied, he leaned down to whisper in Felix’s ear, “If you want, I can teach you how to shoot a gun when we get back. I know you like watching Changbin-hyung practice his shooting.”

Felix nodded, giving Jisung a grateful smile. “That would be great, thanks.” Jisung grinned and bounded away happily, leaving Felix to let the smile slide off his face. He did like watching Changbin practice, but perhaps not for the reason Jisung was thinking of…

He watched through the window as the other boys all loaded up into Chan’s rusty Hyundai and took off, leaving Felix alone once more in Jung’s Goods. He glared at his unfinished Korean homework where it was sitting on the table… _no way I’m fucking doing that shit._

 

 

Chan let the Hyundai roll to a stop in front of a dilapidated house deep within the backstreets of Seoul. Yawning dark windows and peeling paint were all that decorated the front of the house, and the concrete stoop was hopelessly cracked.

It made Jung’s Goods look downright respectable, honestly. “This is it, guys,” Chan said after a moment of silence, triggering all four boys to climb out of the car. “Okay, just let me do the talking. You’re only here for backup,” he reminded them as they walked towards the door.

Chan knocked on the door cautiously, only for it to swing open- revealing a pudgy, red-faced older man who gave him one look before squealing and slamming the door shut. _Oh, hell no-_ Chan nodded at Woojin, who grinned.

With one powerful shove of Woojin’s shoulder, the door burst open- and 3racha poured into the old house. Chan strode over to the man, eyes steely and fists clenched. He was _so done_ with taking shit from this asshole.

His brothers didn’t put themselves in danger for this shit.  Jisung didn’t take a bullet for this shit. He was done playing games.

“I’m not fucking around anymore, Lee,” he said lowly, one hand on his revolver as he stepped closer. “I’ve been lenient, but you’ve been using the fact that we’re a small gang to take advantage of my generosity- _and I’m fucking done.”_

Jisung met Changbin’s gaze, both boys’ eyes wide with surprise. This was Chan as they had never seen him before- and it was pretty fucking cool, to be honest. Woojin stepped up behind Chan, glaring at the man over Chan’s shoulder.

“You’re still a new gang, do you really want to have the reputation of hounding your buyers like this?” the man said almost pleadingly, panic clear in his darting eyes. Chan growled, drawing the revolver up to point at the man’s feet.

“Do you have our payment _or not?”_ Chan demanded, gun steady. Changbin clicked open his pistol, and Jisung flicked open his knife- each was prepared to fight in case the man had backup. Jisung could barely keep himself from bouncing as the adrenaline spiked through his blood-

“Wait, wait!” the man cried out. “Calm down! I don’t- I don’t have the money, but-” Chan scoffed loudly, gun raising to point at the man’s thigh. “ _Listen,_ I have something better!” the man wailed.

“I don’t want something better, I want _payment!”_ Chan bit out angrily. The man cowered, hands fluttering uselessly as he looked everywhere but at Chan. “Let me get it for you, you’ll be happy when you see it,” the man pleaded.

He jutted his chin at the door behind him. “It’s just in that room there, _please-”_ Chan was silent for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh, “If it’s drugs or some shit, I swear-” The man shook his head furiously, “No, no!”

Chan nodded at Woojin, who took the man’s arm in a tight grip before walking with him to the door. The man opened up the door, and shouted into the room, “Get out here!” Jisung furrowed his brow in confusion- was someone else bringing whatever this payment was?

“Hurry the fuck up!” the man yelled, and a rustling came from inside the room. He turned back to them, smiling nervously, “This is a much better payment…you can do anything you like with it.”

_What the fuck does that mean?_

Jisung walked a few steps closer, curiosity rushing through him, just in time to see- _a boy_ stumble outside the room.

Except- there were bruises painted garishly over his face and arms and legs, and he could barely hold himself up on two legs, and he was _sickeningly_ thin, and- _oh god._

This boy looked far more dead than alive.

Even still, under all the bruises and filth…he was hopelessly, heartbreakingly gorgeous- enough to make Jisung’s chest ache with the terrible beauty of it all.

_Features as sharp and delicate as glass, cat-like eyes glimmering in the dim light-_

Woojin had let go of the man’s arm in shock, and the man took this opportunity to kick the boy sharply. “Told you to hurry the fuck up, c’mon-” At the impact of the kick, the boy’s legs gave out and he landed on his knees, weak arms barely holding him upright.

Ever so slowly, he raised his head- and looked directly at Jisung, their eyes locking together immediately.

_Oh god oh god oh god-_

The bones of Jisung’s heart shattered just a little more with every second he looked into the boy’s eyes- his gaze was so _lifeless._

It was like looking into a mirror back to four years ago and cracked bones and screaming into his hands because it was all _too much_ and-

Here was another dead boy walking.

_You and me- we’re the same._


	8. the third addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoo I'm back with MINSUNGGG!! (sorry I'm just in love with this ship) and it's a long one bc I got carried away...oops  
> dw I got yall with that woochan and changlix too, can't have anyone starving (;

He wasn’t looking away.

This heartbreakingly beautiful boy with bruises painted on him like a second skin was staring straight at Jisung, and _he wasn’t looking away-_

“You can do anything you want to him- this slut loves it all. He can take anything…a real crowd pleaser, if you know what I mean...”

Jisung felt like throwing up at the filth dripping from this man’s words as he talked about the boy in front of him. Maybe the disgust showed on his face, because the boy’s gaze snapped away from his to land on the floor instead.

Jisung felt slightly dazed once their gazes broke, as if the world around them had gone slightly out of focus during the time their eyes were locked together.

_Cat-like eyes glimmering in the dim light-_

“He makes a lot of my customers very happy, you know. This is a real favor I’m doing you here-” Chan cut across the man’s words, his tone quiet and tightly controlled. “Shut the _fuck_ up before I shoot you in the fucking head.”

Changbin gulped- this was the angriest he had ever seen Chan, and it was downright terrifying. The man seemed to sense how close Chan was to snapping as well, and he rushed to make amends. “Don’t worry, I promise! He’s a great little whore-”

“Did I or did I not just tell you to _shut the fuck up?”_ Chan’s voice shook with the effort of keeping himself under control.

Silence fell for a long moment- Changbin training his gun on the man, Woojin watching Chan worriedly as the leader’s control over his anger frayed, and Jisung staring at the broken boy in front of him- before Chan spoke up again, “Where did you find him?”

The man chuckled nervously, “Ah, well…he’s my son.”

Jisung’s heart cracked in two.

_How-_

_How could he do this…to his own son?_

He barely registered the commotion that broke out behind him when Chan finally snapped, shoving his gun in Changbin’s hands- only to punch the man’s nose with deadly aim. A sickening crack sounded throughout the room before Chan drew back for another punch, yelling-

“ _You fucking bastard!”_

A second later, Woojin and Changbin sprang into action, both boys jumping to hold Chan back from literally pouncing on the other man. Chan was not an easy person to take down, though- resulting in absolute chaos exploding throughout the room.

Meanwhile, Jisung was still oblivious- his gaze stayed on the boy in front of him, unable to look away for a second. He had no idea why- there was just a pull deep within him to this boy, and it wasn’t letting go for a second.

Unable to stop himself any longer, he reached out a gentle hand as he spoke softly, “Hey, we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? I promise you.”

_You and me- we’re the same-_

_I promise you-_

The boy didn’t look up.

Vaguely, Jisung registered the sounds of commotion dying down behind him- no doubt Woojin and Changbin had finally managed to get Chan under control. Which was something he had never thought would have to happen, because...Chan? Out of control? The idea was laughable.

Yet here they were- and he didn’t blame Chan one bit.

“Dude, what is your fucking problem?” the man wailed, and Chan took a deep breath as Woojin gripped his shoulder from behind. “Shut the fuck up. We’re leaving,” Chan said surprisingly calmly, given the fact that a minute ago he had been about to pound this guy into the floor.

“But, your payment-” the man said, gesturing to the boy on the ground. Chan inhaled quickly, but before he could say anything- there was a quiet, yet firm declaration from where Jisung was knelt next to the boy.

“He’s coming with us.”

Jisung let his eyes trail over the boy’s crumpled frame, his shoulders lined with defeat and his breathing shallow from the pain he was no doubt experiencing. There was no fucking way Jisung would walk out of here without this boy.

_I’m not leaving you._

There was a moment of shocked silence, before Chan nodded, “Damn right he is.” Changbin and Woojin looked to him in surprise, but Chan merely walked over to where Jisung was now trying to help the unresisting boy onto his feet.

The man spluttered in confusion from the corner for a moment, before- in the smartest move he had made all night- finally deciding to remain silent. Changbin kept his pistol trained on him just in case, watching out of the corner of his eye as Jisung and Chan helped the boy up.

Jisung carefully slid his arm around the boy’s middle, too short to curl it around his shoulders. _Oh god-_ the boy’s ribs seemed to be almost bursting out of his skin with how pronounced they were, but Jisung just swallowed hard and focused on keeping the boy upright.

Also shorter than the boy, even as thin as he was, Chan wrapped his arm around the boy’s middle as well- and with both boys helping, they were able to slowly make their way out of the house. Woojin and Changbin followed, throwing disgusted looks behind them at the man still in the house.

Jisung carefully arranged the boy next to him in the backseat, his hands just barely shaking as they passed over deep purple bruises and protruding bones. He couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered on the boy’s features, as lifeless as they were.

_Features as sharp and delicate as glass-_

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

The boy didn’t bother to respond, instead just letting his head fall against the window as Chan, Woojin, and Changbin got into the car. Jisung furrowed his brow in disappointment, but didn’t press him further. It was understandable that he didn’t want to talk.

“Chan, are we doing the right thing here?” Woojin’s murmur beside Chan was too quiet for the boys in the backseat to hear as the Hyundai rumbled away from that horrible house. Chan glanced over to see Woojin looking at him, street lights illuminating the worry in his eyes.

“Of course we are,” Chan said lowly, eyes flitting to the rearview mirror to see the boy in the backseat staring out the window lifelessly. “There was no way we could leave him there, Jin,” he continued in a quiet voice.

Woojin gave him a wry smile, “You only use that nickname to get me to go along with your crazy plans.” Chan grinned, gaze sliding over to see soft affection warming Woojin’s features as the blond looked at him from the passenger seat.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” he asked, tone far softer and far fonder than he had meant for it to sound. Woojin shook his head, smiling to himself, “It’s not fair- now I have to think of a nickname for you.” Chan laughed, “What could you possibly do with Chan?”

Woojin mused for a moment, then: “Channie.”

Chan laughed nervously, a deep blush threatening to make its way over his neck. _When did his throat get so dry?_ “That’s a bit stupid, isn’t it?” he said a little too quickly. A terrifying grin spread over Woojin’s face as he stared hard at Chan.

“You like it, don’t you?”

Chan sputtered, “Absolutely not-!” Woojin nodded, still grinning, “Yep, you love it. Noted.” His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror as Chan willed his blush away beside him. Worry twisted hot in Woojin’s chest at the sight of the boy, streetlights glancing off his bruises.

As much as he wanted to let this lighthearted moment between him and Chan stretch out forever, he knew he had to break it. There were more important things at hand.

“What about his dad?” Woojin asked after a moment, and it physically hurt to watch as Chan lost his open, relaxed demeanor of a few seconds ago and visibly put on the role of “leader.” His eyes grew serious and his shoulders straightened with tension.

It was easily hidden from the kids, but Woojin could tell- the burden of being a gang leader was far too heavy on Chan’s young shoulders, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

_I wish you would let me help you-_

Chan shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know…I can’t think about that man right now without wanting to punch something. I’ll figure it out once we take care of…him.” Both their gazes flew to the rearview mirror, watching as the boy continued to stare out the window.

Their arrival at Jung’s Goods was relatively quiet…until they stepped inside and Felix immediately yelled, “Where the _fuck_ have you guys been?!” The boy cowered at the sound of the loud voice, and Jisung reached out a comforting hand without thinking about it.

The moment his skin came in contact with the other boy’s arm, the taller flinched away from him- taking two quick steps to the right in order to get away from Jisung’s hand.

_Han Jisung, you are such an idiot-_

Of course he didn’t want to be touched by strangers, _god-_ mentally berating himself, Jisung followed from behind as the group moved into the living room where Felix was waiting. “Um…who is that?” Felix asked, more quietly this time.

Letting Woojin help Jisung with supporting the boy, Chan led Felix into the living room to explain in fast-paced, low English. Looking over the boy next to him, Jisung asked, “Do you want to shower?” He almost expected the boy not to respond again, but he nodded after a moment.

Relieved that he was at least responding now, Jisung looked to Woojin. “Can you help me take him to the bathroom, hyung?” The blond nodded, but once they got to the bathroom- Jisung realized he hadn’t thought this through.

_Fuck, okay- just ask him, you idiot._

“Um…can- can you stand up in the shower by yourself?” The boy nodded quickly and Jisung let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, um- there’s towels and stuff in there, but we’ll leave you some clean clothes outside the door, alright?”

With another quick nod, the boy stumbled forward into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a click. Jisung and Woojin stared at each other for a moment before the older shrugged and walked away in search of some of his old clothes.

Jisung stared at the white bathroom door in front of him for a moment longer- unable to get the image of the boy’s dark eyes out of his head. What about this boy was so goddamn _captivating?_ Jisung’s attention span normally lasted about five seconds, but something about this boy…

-made him want to stand still in time forever.

_Um, what the fuck?_

Shaking his head at the thoughts running through his mind, Jisung walked back to the living room where he could hear Chan still talking to Felix. “…we’re taking him in for the time being. We haven’t really…gotten to talk to him much.”

Jisung rounded the corner to see Chan and Felix on the couch, with Changbin smoking nearby on the windowsill. “We don’t know what he’s been through, but…we’re gonna do our best to help him, Felix-ah.” Chan finally finished, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

Felix nodded furiously, blond strands falling into his eyes, “Just let me know what I can do to help, hyung!” Jisung bit back a smile- Felix was as kind as ever, as expected- before letting himself fall into the blond’s side, the two millenials’ limbs tangling together.

“Hello, octopus,” Felix greeted him with a smile, already used to Jisung’s clinginess. Jisung just crinkled his nose at Felix and burrowed deeper, mumbling, “Who taught you that word in Korean? Wasn’t me.” Felix just laughed and let Jisung draw him closer.

Chan’s eyes crinkled with fondness as he looked at the mess of limbs that made up the youngest part of his little family. Thinking of the horrible wounds on that boy they had found today… Chan knew he needed to be there for him, just as he was there for these two.

That bruised, broken boy needed someone badly- and 3racha would not let him down.

Chan would not let him down.

But for now… “You’re cuddling without me?” he cried loudly, resulting in giggles from the tangle of teenage boy on the couch. Diving into the mess of limbs, Chan made sure to wriggle around just enough to elicit loud groans from the two younger boys.

“ _Hyung,_ stop!”

“ _Oh god-_ help us, Binnie-hyung!”

Jisung stretched a pleading hand towards the windowsill, which Changbin easily ignored. “Binnie-ah…” Chan called playfully, and the dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Binnie-ah, cuddles….” Chan called again, and the other boy groaned.

There was no use trying to resist a cuddle-driven Chan.

“ _God,_ fine… _”_ Putting out his cigarette on the cushion, the other boy got off the sill with a dramatic sigh of exasperation before making his way over to the chaotic cuddle pile on the couch, his cheeks already tinged a light pink.

_Just don’t touch Felix and everything should be just fine…_

He slowly inserted himself into the pile next to Jisung, careful not to touch Felix as the younger boy failed to hide his blush from where he was pinned under Chan. Of course, the leader had other things in mind, and he wasted no time in dragging Changbin closer.

Which ended in Changbin bracing himself with shaky arms as he hovered over Felix’s body, the younger boy blushing madly under the smattering of freckles that decorated his nose and cheeks. Changbin swallowed _hard,_ sure that there was an equally dark blush on his face-

But he was still unable to look away from honey-blond strands and constellation freckles and warm brown eyes and- _fuck. Stop it, Seo Changbin. Stop it right now._

_Stay away from this boy stay away from him stay away-_

A quiet cough sounded suddenly from the doorway.

All four boys looked up to see the boy standing there, Woojin’s T-shirt and sweatpants far too baggy on his skeletal frame. Without dirt covering his skin, the bruises stood out in even starker contrast, and the outlines of his ribs were visible through the white fabric of the shirt.

Jisung still thought he was hopelessly gorgeous- even more so now that his golden skin was washed clean and his hair fell in half-dry, dark waves away from his forehead- instead of falling over his eyes like a shield against the world as it had before.

With a little embarrassment, the four boys on the couch untangled themselves from each other and got up. Chan walked over to the boy still standing in the doorway, Jisung following close behind. “Hey, glad to see you got to shower,” Chan said kindly, and the boy looked away, fingers twisting together.

“Could you tell us your name?” Chan continued. “It would be nice to refer to you as something other than ‘the new guy’ in conversation, and-” The boy’s hands clenched into fists as his gaze snapped back up to Chan’s.

“Look,” he cut in, and Jisung barely managed to hold back a gasp at hearing the boy’s voice for the first time. “Whatever you’re going to do to me, can we just get it over with? Thank you for letting me shower, but I’d rather you all just…hurt me now.”

Even though his words were strong, the boy’s voice shook as he fought to maintain a steady tone. He looked back at the floor once he was done, shoulders just barely trembling. Jisung and Chan gaped at each other, utterly shocked.

“We- we’re not planning on doing anything to you. We would never…” Chan said slowly. “We’re trying to help you, that’s why we got you out of there…um, when did you get the impression we were planning on hurting you?”

The boy scoffed a little, gaze still firmly on the floor, “Because that’s what they all do in the end…why should your gang be any different?” Unable to stand it any longer, Jisung burst out, “We’re nothing like that! We would never hurt you!”

The boy laughed a little- the sound as brittle and sad as dead leaves- and finally looked up to let his gaze meet Jisung’s. “And why should I believe you?” Jisung stopped breathing as the other boy’s piercing gaze held him captive, tearing any possible answer from his lips.

After three beats of silence, Chan finally stepped in to say, “We’re just going to have to prove it to you, I guess. But you are never going to go through anything like that ever again, not if I can help it.” The boy looked at Chan for a moment longer, before letting his gaze drop and shrugging.

Chan nodded decisively, “Good enough for me. Okay, I’m going to go make dinner, but Jisung- will you help him get settled in your room? Changbin’s already got Felix sleeping in his extra bed most nights, and I’d like to give the new guy his own room.” Jisung nodded hurriedly, hand reaching out to the boy before he caught himself.

_Don’t fuck this up, Han Jisung._

Sticking his hand back at his side where it belonged, Jisung nodded to the boy, “Um, follow me.” He led the boy into his room, where he gestured at the lone bed, “You can sleep there, obviously-” The other boy gave him a sudden wary look.

Jisung rushed to explain, “No! God no, not with me- I’ll be on the couch. I sleep there half the time anyways.” The boy tilted his head, regarding Jisung, before looking back at the bed and speaking softly, “So I’m kicking you out of your own bed.”

Jisung shook his head hurriedly, “No- no, I sleep on the couch most of the time anyways. Besides…Chan was right. You should have your own room right now.” The boy just stood there silently, until Jisung started to panic a bit.

And when Jisung panicked, he rambled. Well, he did that when he was excited, too- and when he was nervous, come to think of it…

“Anyways, Chan-hyung may have seemed all badass back at your place, but he’s actually just a dad- you’ll see. And Woojin-hyung may have seemed all strong and silent, but- well that’s actually pretty accurate, but he’s really nice, too. And I know Changbin-hyung was all like _‘oohh I’ve got a pistol and I’m always smoking’_ but he’s nowhere near that cool, and- oh, you’ll love Felix! He-”

“Minho.”

Cut off mid-ramble, Jisung froze for a moment before registering the other boy had spoken. “Um…sorry?” he ventured, and the other boy sighed, “Minho. It’s my name…Lee Minho.”

_Minho- Lee Minho-_

Catching himself in the act of mouthing the name over and over again, Jisung cleared his throat. “Han Jisung,” he said in return, and the other boy nodded a bit shyly before Jisung spoke again, asking as an afterthought, “Are you my hyung?”

The other boy- _Minho Minho Minho-_ smiled a little, “I think so- I was born in ‘98.” Jisung grinned, “Yep, I’m 2000 line! You’re older than Felix and Changbin-hyung too, but Chan-hyung and Woojin-hyung are older than you.” Minho tilted his head to show he was listening, and Jisung continued.

“Well, anyways- you’ll love Felix, he just moved here from Australia and he’s probably the nicest person you’ll ever meet. And then there’s me…” Jisung trailed off, and Minho looked up to catch a smirk forming on the younger boy’s lips.

“You only need one word to describe me: a total badass.”

There was a pause before Minho said very seriously, “That was three words. And also a blatant lie.”

 Jisung gasped- highly offended at his audacity- and was about to retort…when _Minho laughed._ The sound was full of soft light…and so melodic that it immediately put all of Jisung’s favorite songs to shame. Not to mention Minho’s _smile-_

Jisung immediately knew that he would do anything to make Lee Minho laugh like that again.

Anything.

_You and me- we’re the same-_

_I’m not leaving you-_

And that was when Jisung knew that he was well and truly fucked.

 


	9. the third addition pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE  
> the culprit: lack of time and possibly the worst writer's block I've ever had (:  
> but anyway hopefully this isn't shit lmao I love you all  
> ALSO IMPORTANT: my best friend made AMAZING art for this and if you don't check it out you're a hoe (:  
> https://twitter.com/_kpoptarts/status/1065127280446504961

They were laughing-

Rough hands roamed all over his body, their harsh touch burning his skin-

Sharp tugs on his hair pulled back his head sharply, exposing his neck-

Iron fingers wrapped firmly around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter-

_I can’t breathe-_

They were still laughing-

_ICANTBREATHEICANTBREATHEICANTBREATHE-_

 

Minho shot upright with a gasp, heaving for breath as his heart beat wildly within his chest. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the peeling wallpaper and alarming number of knives… _Jisung’s room._

He sighed heavily, letting his head fall forward to be cradled by his hands. _God,_ there was just no escape from the shit show that was his life. Even when he was away from the clients, they still managed to haunt his dreams.

He was so _sick_ of it- the fear, the pain, _their touch_

Sometimes, Minho thought that the feeling of their hands burning into his skin would never go away.

Sometimes, he thought that he would carry the weight of their touch forever.

Sometimes-

_I can’t breathe-_

_Please-_

He choked back a sudden, helpless sob, pressing a shaking hand to his mouth in an effort to keep all the weakness within. The dark room seemed to draw closer to him, shadows slipping off the walls and creeping towards the bed-

Minho laid back down and shut his eyes tight.

Sometimes it was better to just close your eyes and let the demons have their way with you.

 

 

Minho woke to the feeling of hands on his body.

_Not another client please no please I can’t take anymore-_

_ICANTBREATHE-_

_Not anymore no more no more-_

“Minho-hyung, it’s just me! I swear, please-”

Minho’s eyes flew open to see- _Jisung,_ dark eyes wide with shock and lips parted and dark hair messy- Minho looked down to see his hands clenched tight around Jisung’s shoulders, holding him in place roughly. _Oh fuck-_ he tore his hands away from Jisung, hands trembling.

_Oh god I hurt him I hurt him how could I-_

“ _Fuck_ \- I’m so sorry, Jisung. Did I hurt you?” The younger only shook his head, giving Minho a tentative smile. “I’m fine, hyung, don’t worry. Are you okay, though? You were breathing kind of fast when you were asleep…”

Minho swallowed hard, taking a moment to steady his voice. “I’m fine.” Jisung looked unconvinced, but thankfully didn’t press him further. “Well, I’m in here because Woojin and Chan want to change your bandages. Is that okay?”

Minho nodded absently, watching closely as Jisung unconsciously rubbed at his shoulder. _What if-?_ “Jisung, let hyung see your shoulder.” The younger boy shrank away, laughing a bit nervously. “Hyung, don’t be a creep!”

Minho fixed him with a hard stare, and the younger gave in with a sigh. After a long moment, Jisung pulled up the sleeves of his shirt to expose his shoulders…where the beginnings of faint bruises were already forming.

Minho’s heart stopped.

 

Minho’s dad had started hitting him when he was ten years old, right after his mom left. All he knew from that time was white terror and endless pain…until it got so much worse. His father’s measly weapons business had gotten progressively weaker over the years- until he finally started selling out his own son.

_Please don’t do this Appa please I’ll be good I swear-_

Sometimes when Minho closed his eyes, he could still see his fifteen-year-old self, shaking in the corner after the first time a _client_ visited- his fingers pressed tight around himself as if that would somehow hold his shaking pieces together.

_Anything to make the pain go away-_

So Minho was no stranger to pain. And he had been hurt enough times in his life to know by now that he never, ever wanted to hurt another human being. The thought of becoming like his father-

-that was the most terrifying thing Minho could think of.

And now-

_I did that to him I did that to him I hurt him-_

_Your father’s son after all-_

“Hyung is so fucking sorry,” Minho said unsteadily, unable to look at the purples and greens mottling Jisung’s skin any longer.

_You did that-_

_You are broken beyond repair and all that’s left to you is to break something else-_

He closed his eyes, struggling to keep the bubbling anger at himself contained under his skin. His attempt was of course in vain- Jisung took one look at Minho’s face and shoved his sleeves back down, babbling reassurances.

“It’s _fine,_ Minho-hyung. I bruise super easily, and you’re the one who we should be worrying about now! You’ve been here for a few days already and your bruises still aren’t going away.” Minho opened his eyes to give the younger a weak smile.

“That’s because these are old wounds, Jisung. Alright, let’s go before Chan bursts in here all worried like he did the first day.” Jisung laughed brightly at the memory, the sound warming Minho’s insides as he followed the younger to the living room.

 

“I still can’t believe you took in another one, hyung.”

Jisung dropped his spoon into his cereal with a clatter and glared at Changbin, eyes sparking with anger. “What would you have done- just left him there?” Changbin’s eyebrows shot up at Jisung’s sudden display of defensiveness, as the younger had been falling asleep at the table a minute ago.

“No, I just-” His explanation was quickly cut off by Jisung’s interjection of, “ _I_ think Chan-hyung made the right decision, because he’s not a heartless, cold human being.” Changbin rolled his eyes, giving up on explaining himself as Jisung returned to eating his cereal, now very much awake.

Chan sighed from where he was sitting at the other end of the table, rubbing his palms over his face in a vain attempt to shake off his exhaustion. “Can we not fight this early in the morning, please? For hyung?”

Changbin and Jisung looked at their tired hyung, then met each other’s guilt-filled gaze. “Sorry, Chan-hyung,” they both said shamefacedly, and Chan just nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes still closed. He had been up even later than usual, trying to sort out their finances since they no longer had any hope of payment from Minho’s abuser.

All he could do was hope for another job, and soon.

 _God,_ he was so tired. There was never enough time, never enough money, never enough-

“Hey.”

Recognizing the low voice immediately, Chan opened his eyes to see soft eyes and golden hair illuminated by the morning light- _Woojin._ The blond gave him an easy half-smile as he pressed a cracked mug filled with coffee into Chan’s hands, before taking a seat beside him at the table.

Blinking in sleepy wonderment, Chan took a long sip of the coffee and hummed in appreciation. Woojin’s eyes crinkled with unrestrained affection as they took in Chan before he turned his attention to the two younger boys, who were currently busy gagging.

“Could you not make lovey eyes this early in the morning? We’re fucking begging you,” Changbin said disgustedly, with Jisung still pretending to vomit in the background. Woojin narrowed his eyes, “So I guess this means you won’t be wanting my coffee, then?”

“No, hyung!” Changbin yelped, eyes wide with fear. “I didn’t mean it, I swear!” Woojin rolled his eyes, but slid a mug of coffee over to Changbin as well. The younger received it happily, wasting no time before practically gulping down half the mug.

Minho appeared next, quietly sliding into the seat next to Jisung. The younger boy immediately lit up at the elder’s presence, immediately beginning to chatter away as Minho nodded along. Chan leaned back to regard the pair, smiling when a whispered comment from Minho made Jisung break out into bright laughter.

_He’s coming with us-_

_There was no way we could leave him there-_

Taking in Minho had definitely been the right decision.

Still half-asleep, Felix stumbled through the doorway next, his blond hair impossibly mussed and eyes half-lidded. Changbin looked over just in time to see Felix blindly fall into the chair next to him, head coming down to rest on the table.

Changbin struggled madly to hold back the soft smile that was threatening to break across his expression, instead settling for a quiet, “Morning, Felix-ah.” The younger gave him a sleepy smile- hopelessly beautiful and utterly innocent to the way he made Changbin’s chest ache.

_Seo Changbin, you are too fucked up for this boy full of light-_

“Hyung, can I have some of your coffee?” Changbin gulped, looking down at his sacred caffeine and then back at Felix, whose big doe eyes were looking at him pleadingly. Jisung scoffed, “Don’t waste your breath, Felix. He’s so stingy about his coffee-”

“Sure,” Changbin cut Jisung off with a glare as he slid the precious mug over to Felix, the younger grinning with success. “Thanks, hyung!” Felix said happily, and Changbin could only nod, internally berating himself for how easy he had become.

Jisung coughed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously close to “ _whipped_ ,” and Changbin fixed him with a scathing glare. Rolling his eyes at both of them, Woojin cleared his throat, “Okay, _anyways-_ do we have a job today, Chan?”

Chan shrugged, “If we get a tip for one out there, then yes. Which I’m hoping happens- we need it.”

And that was when the phone rang.

Chan grinned, jumping up to grab the phone. “Looks like luck is on our side!”

Changbin sat up and started talking to Woojin eagerly about how long it had been since they’d had a real job, with Felix watching the two curiously. Minho, on the other hand, couldn’t help but notice how uncharacteristically silent Jisung was beside him.

He nudged the younger boy, smiling as Jisung startled at the touch. “Jisung, you good?” he asked quietly, and the younger gave him a large smile. “Of course, hyung!” Minho nodded, but kept watching as Jisung’s empty smile slid off his face and his eyes turned distant.

_Something’s wrong-_

Felix watched as his hyungs talked animatedly about the upcoming raid, confidence and barely hidden excitement filtering through their words. He took a shaky breath- _want to help them want to be with them want to be goddamn useful-_ and asked hesitantly, “Hyungs…can I please come this time?”

Changbin and Woojin both fell silent, looking at Felix in surprise. Woojin’s eyes softened, and he reached across the table to squeeze Felix’s hand. “Felix-ah…you know what Chan said last time. It’s not safe.” Felix tore his hand away, frustrated.

“I know, but I want to be helpful! I wouldn’t do any of the dangerous parts, I swear!” Woojin merely sighed, and Felix gave up on that particular hyung. Turning to Changbin, he widened his eyes and pouted a tiny bit before asking softly, “Changbin-hyung, please?”

Changbin kept his eyes firmly on the table, knowing that looking at Felix’s face right now would be pure suicide. “Felix, no. It’s not safe, and-” he cut himself off, the words _I can’t let you get hurt_ burning as he swallowed them back down his throat.

_You are too full of light for our world to touch you-_

Changbin’s refusal echoed in Felix’s ears as he deflated, letting his gaze fall to his fingers as they twisted together. _They don’t want you they don’t need you-_ Felix got up from the table, chest aching with hurt even though he _knew_ that they weren’t trying to exclude him, it was just-

_Yah, stupid-_

_You’re practically useless-_

Felix escaped to his room before his thoughts painted themselves onto his skin for the rest to see.

Chan chose that moment to walk back into the room, grinning widely. “We’ve got a job, kids-and-Woojin! It’s a big one, too- just what we needed.” Instead of the cheers he was expecting, Chan got a sulking Changbin, a distant and uncharacteristically silent Jisung, and a sighing Woojin. Minho at least gave him a half-hearted smile.

Chan looked around, bewildered. “Well, okay then. Go get ready, I guess.” And with that, the rest of his gang filed out from the room silently, leaving Chan to raise an eyebrow at Minho questioningly. The younger boy just shrugged and went back to his cereal.

Chan sighed, “I can never keep them happy, huh?”

 

Minho was still sitting at the kitchen table when the four gang members came stomping down the stairs, and he watched curiously as they lined up in the living room. His eyes caught on Jisung, dressed in all black and with a hoodie pulled over his dark hair. He still looked so _young-_

_Eyes full of stars and a voice full of warmth-_

But then one of his many hidden knives flashed silver in the light, reminding Minho of just what this boy- and his gang- were capable of. Even still, it was hard to reconcile this Jisung with the one whose smile was as easy and sweet as honey.

Chan had already donned the mask of “leader,” back straight and eyes steely as they inspected his gang before nodding in satisfaction. “Alright, 3racha- let’s move,” he said suddenly, and the four impossibly brave boys walked out in certain danger once more.

_God, please don’t let them get hurt please let them come back safe-_

A rustle sounded from the doorway, and Minho turned to see Felix staring sadly at the closed front door from around the corner. He smiled at the adorable pout on the younger’s lips and regarded him for a moment.

Minho had been surprised at first- how easy it was to like Felix.

Now that he knew the younger boy a little more, he could see that it was practically impossible not to like Felix- there was an unmistakable, almost child-like kindness within this boy that was unlike anything Minho had ever known in his miserable life.

“Felix, what are you doing pouting over there? Come help hyung with the dishes,” he called to the younger, who sighed and nodded before stepping into the room. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll come around soon,” Minho tried to comfort the younger boy- despite knowing deep down how unlikely that was.

Chan was protective enough as it was, and with Changbin’s undeniable protective streak for Felix added into the mix?

Yeah, no chance.

Likely thinking the same thing, Felix nodded unconvincingly and smiled at Minho gratefully before helping him carry the dishes to the sink. “At least you’re here now, hyung. When they went on their jobs before, I was always alone all day.”

Minho grinned, “Shut up, you’re too sweet. Now let’s do the fucking dishes- get that radio over here.”

 

Normally, 3racha jobs took most of the day- or night, depending on when they started. Felix had become accustomed to it by now, and had told Minho that they probably wouldn’t see the gang until later that evening.

So when the door banged open less than a couple hours after the gang had left- it was not a good sign.

“ _Fuck,_ get him to his room now!”

Minho and Felix looked up to see- Chan carrying Jisung fully, the younger boy hyperventilating in his arms as the older ran to Jisung’s room with Changbin and Woojin running after him. Minho and Felix took one look at each other before jumping up and sprinting after the group.

They skidded into Jisung’s room, only to come upon utter chaos. Jisung was curled up in the corner, his breathing terrifyingly quick and shallow as sobs burst from his lips. Chan frantically tried to comfort the younger boy, murmuring reassurances in a shaky voice.

Changbin had his hand on Jisung’s arm and was watching the younger steadily, not looking away for a second as tears slipped down his cheeks. Woojin stood frozen by the doorway- only to turn at the sound of a sob from Felix, who couldn’t stand to look at his terrified best friend crumpled in the corner.

Woojin took Felix in his arms, but Minho barely noticed as he stepped past them with only one thought in his mind- _get to Jisung get to Jisung-_ the bones of his heart cracked wide open at the sight of the younger terrified and in pain. It just wasn’t _right-_

Jisung wasn’t supposed to be in pain. He was supposed to be laughing loudly, teasing Minho or taunting Changbin or cuddling Felix- he was supposed to _be okay-_

_Oh god Jisung please why isn’t he okay why isn’t he okay-_

Chan’s reassurances didn’t seem to be working, and it didn’t even sound like Jisung was breathing anymore and- _oh god please he doesn’t deserve this-_

Jisung was shattering into pieces right there on the floor- jagged shards clattering onto hardwood- and all Minho could do was desperately try to hold him together.

_Eyes full of stars-_

Minho fell to his knees in front of the broken boy in the corner.

_“Jisung-ah, please-”_


	10. the fourth addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating on time? idk her  
> BUT ACTUALLY IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LATE I AM! finals fucked me up y'all...  
> also minsung and woochan got a little out of hand in this one...I was too impatient IM SORRY
> 
> and! I figured I'd drop my twitter and tumblr if yall wanna follow me so I can stalk all of you (;  
> (just a warning I'm a lot more active on twitter)
> 
> twt: @timeoftheblue  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/3rachaa-sauce

Jisung was afraid of everything.

_Four years ago and cracked bones and screaming into his hands-_

And here’s the thing: when you’re afraid of everything, you’ve really only got two choices from there.

Spend your life cowering away in a corner, or-

 Pretend you’re invincible. Pretend you’re immortal, pretend that _nothing can touch you-_

Not even death.

_Dead boy walking-_

And after a while, you start believing in your own immortality. You keep the ugly black fingers of all your fears shoved away, and you pretend that they were never there in the first place, and _you_ _believe it_.

Jisung believed it, until-

_Almost there- please, just a little more- so close-_

_BANG!_

Until he got shot.

And the next thing he knew, Jisung was on his first raid since getting shot and all of a sudden there was a guy pulling a gun on him, and-

_I don’t want to die, please-_

And just like that, all those fears came pouring out once more, teeth bared and claws ready to tear apart the fragile seams Jisung had held himself together with. Because when it came down to it, Jisung wasn’t immortal, he wasn’t invincible-

He was just a seventeen-year-old boy, terrified of the world around him and _far_ too young _,_ still.

So this: sobbing on the hardwood floor as his throat closed up and his heart beat wildly- this is what it looked like when those seams finally tore apart. This is what it looked like when-

This is what it looked like when Jisung lost control.

“Jisung-ah, please.”

_You and me- we’re the same-_

Jisung barely registered the feeling of strong arms circling around his body and pulling him forwards to lean against someone’s chest, sobs still racking his body. Trembling fingers slipped through his hair as the scent of cinnamon surrounded him, and-

“Shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay- I promise. Try to breathe with me.”

Reassurances were whispered into his hair as someone _-_ _cinnamon and trembling fingers-_ pressed their lips to Jisung’s head. Jisung turned his nose sideways to burrow into the person’s neck, taking shaky breaths as his sobs began to die down.

“You can, it’s okay. You can.”

Coming to himself a little more, Jisung realized he had been gasping out little whispers of “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-” into the side of the person’s neck. The arms clung to him a little tighter, and Jisung finally felt his vision begin to clear as the sheer panic died down.

_Cinnamon and trembling fingers-_

He pulled back enough to see the person he was curled into, and-

_Features as sharp and delicate as glass, cat-like eyes glimmering in the dim light-_

Minho. Of course.

But Jisung was too young and too exhausted and too scared, still, to care about embarrassing himself right now. One look at Minho’s eyes, dark orbs intent on Jisung’s face and so full of worry, and- something in Jisung snapped.

“Hyung,” Jisung said in a small, wet voice. “Hyung, I was so scared. I’m…I’m still so scared. ”

An intake of breath from Minho and Jisung was folded back into his arms once again, tight enough to keep his shaking pieces together. Minho let out a deep breath, before bending his head down to whisper furiously into Jisung’s ear, “Hyung is here now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Hyung is here.”

_I’m not leaving you-_

_I’m not leaving you-_

_I’m not leaving you-_

That night found Chan sitting in the dark- head resting on his hands and shoulders tight with exhaustion- as he tried once again to make sense of the world around him. Of how cruel it could be.

_Only seventeen- please-_

_Never enough-_

_I have to protect them-_

“Chan, please go to sleep.” A gentle hand ran through his curls lightly, and Chan let out a deep sigh before raising his head to look at Woojin. The other boy looked at him worriedly, blond hair gleaming softly in the moonlight.

_I wish you would let me help you-_

“What’s wrong?” Woojin asked softly, unable to help his hand reaching for Chan’s and grasping onto it tightly. Chan gave him a long, painful look- dark eyes full of defeat.

“I can’t protect them, Jin.”

Woojin gave a sad little sigh, and stepped forward to wrap Chan up in his arms. The younger boy fell into him easily, breathing in the comfort that Woojin’s presence never failed to bring. “You do so much for them, you know that,” Woojin whispered, his chest beginning to ache with hurt for this boy.

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, willing tears back. “You saw Jisung today- how can I protect him from himself? How can I protect any of them? _Jin,_ I can’t _-”_

Woojin cut him off, “Shhh- Chan, you have to stop doing this to yourself. You’ve done so much for them- and me- already. I-” Woojin stopped himself before the words spilled from his mouth- words that had been burning on his tongue since first seeing Chan smile at him on that rooftop.

Wind whipping at his dark curls and clear light in his eyes as he asked Woojin to join his gang-

_I think I would do just about anything for you-_

_Anything-_

He held Chan a little tighter and swallowed those words back down his throat. “Besides, you saw Minho with him today- he got Jisung to calm down within minutes. Chan, it doesn’t all depend on you. You have the rest of us.”

Woojin’s chest was aching terribly now.

“You have me.”

Chan let out a long, deep breath and nodded into Woojin’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered shakily, waves of gratitude for the scarred boy he had met on a rooftop all those weeks ago rolling through him. Woojin smiled a little and let his hand smooth Chan’s curls only once, before-

“Okay, can we please go to sleep now?”

Chan gave a wet laugh before pulling away and nodding at Woojin. “Yeah- let’s sleep, Woojinnie.” Woojin smirked back at him as they started down the hallway to the bedroom. “Woojinnie, huh?”

He blushed dark red, “Shut up.”

 

 

 

Chan hated scouting out new raid locations.

It was annoying, having to get in and make a mental map of the entire building without raising suspicion. But it was also very necessary- he would never send Jisung, Changbin, and Woojin into a raid blind. Their entire system depended on him remembering every inch of the escape routes he planned out for them.

But that didn’t mean Chan had to like it.

Their newest one was definitely not making things any easier- what with the place being a goddamn club, filled with the rich youth of Seoul. _God,_ he hated places like these. Hated seeing these people his age, so different from him in every way.

Hated hearing their tinkling laughs and watching their dancing bodies glide by, alight with the glow of wealth.

Sometimes he wondered if this was where Changbin would have ended up- among the elite of Seoul’s youth- if Chan hadn’t gotten to him first. Sometimes he wondered if that would have been better.

Sometimes-

_Goddammit, Bang Chan. Get to work, already._

So he did.

Chan quickly lost himself in the routine of walking around the perimeter of the building, laying out routes and making notes in his mind along the way. Years of practice had made this into second nature for Chan, and he was so deep within his thoughts that he almost missed it when-

“Get off of me!”

Chan’s head snapped up to see a boy- he couldn’t have been older than Changbin, at least- stumble back into the wall, tousled dark hair shining under the club lights and full lips parted as he gasped for air. Three men stepped in front of him a second later, eyes glinting with hunger.

“Pretty boy, what are you doing in a place like this?”

“Pretty boy, aren’t you a little young to be out this late?”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy- we won’t tell.”

The boy shook his head, obviously more than a little drunk judging by the clumsiness of his long legs and the deep pink flush of his cheeks. “Leave- leave me alone,” he said unsteadily, shaking his head. Chan’s eyes narrowed as the three men made no move to walk away.

The boy’s brand-name clothes and groomed appearance screamed of money, and his features were almost cookie-cutter perfect, but…watching him back away from three older men who couldn’t take a hint, all Chan could think of was how young and scared the boy looked.

One of the men reached out a large hand to rest it on the boy’s arm, and- _that’s it,_ Chan had had enough of that. Striding over, he tore the guy’s hand away, giving all three men a dark glare. “He told you to leave him alone,” Chan said lowly.

One of the guys scoffed, “What- you his boyfriend or something?” Chan growled, stepping further in front of the boy, before retorting, “No- I’m just a decent fucking human being. Now _back off.”_ One of the guys rolled his eyes before taking a step back.

“Alright, Jesus- we’re leaving, we’re leaving.” Chan did not move from his stance in front of the boy until all three men had left his sight. Only then did he turn around to see that the boy was glaring at him furiously, face even redder than before.

_Well, shit._

“I can take care of myself, asshole. I had it under control,” the boy spat, dark eyes full of anger as he looked down at Chan. The older boy just sighed, “Didn’t look like you had it under control, if I’m being honest. Come on, let me call you a taxi and get you home.”

The boy’s eyes went wide and he shook his head furiously, “No, no- I’m not going home. I’m not!” Chan tilted his head, “Why not?” The boy just kept shaking his head, and Chan threw his hands up in surrender.

“Fine, you’re not going home. But I’m not letting you stay here, either. Are you alone? Do you have a friend’s house you can go to?” he asked, unwilling to leave the boy in the club but wanting to leave himself as soon as possible.

The boy stilled at his words, dark eyes going distant as his lips tugged downwards. “Don’t have anyone,” he said after a long moment. “M’ all alone.” Chan felt something in his chest tighten at the boy’s words and the emptiness in his eyes.

He sighed and ignored the protests in his mind.

_Really, Chan? Another one?_

_Shut up-_

“My name’s Chan. If you don’t have anywhere else to go…you can come home with me, if you want.” The boy’s eyes snapped back to Chan’s and he backed up further away from the older boy- just to run into the wall as his eyes rounded with fear.

“Fucking- no.” Chan gave himself a mental kick and shook his head, “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry. I live with a few other guys, and- we’ve got an extra bed. That’s all. I’m not going to force you to come with me but I’m also not going to leave you here.”

The boy’s gaze fell to the ground, his near-perfect features hidden by a curtain of gleaming black hair as he thought for a long moment. “Fine,” he whispered. “Whatever…take me to your place.” Chan nodded and gently took the boy’s wrist in his hand to lead him out of the club.

“Okay, thank you for trusting me. Is it alright if I ask your name?” he said, once they had stepped outside into the raw, cold air of Seoul. City lights shone in the boy’s eyes and bounced off his hair- he looked even more gorgeous outside, with the biting wind ruffling his bangs and his breath freezing in the air.

Chan watched as the boy stared out at the city streets for a long moment, before turning and giving Chan one of the emptiest smiles he’d ever seen.

“My name’s Hyunjin.”

 


	11. the fourth addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this one took a while too…I’m gonna try to update every couple weeks from now on but no promises (unfortunately I do have an actual life ugh) but anyways- thank you as always for your lovely support, y'all are 87% of my writing motivation nowadays   
> (and as for the changlix scene...my hand slipped??)

Chan stumbled through the front door of Jung’s Goods, barely able to support Hyunjin’s taller frame leaning heavily on him. The younger boy had fallen asleep in the taxi and was still only half-awake as Chan had dragged him up the front steps of his home.

He winced as Hyunjin’s left leg knocked over the umbrella stand, the subsequent crashing echoing throughout the old building. From further inside, the low murmurs of his members stopped, and then-

“Hyung? Did you get shit-faced again?”

Chan gritted his teeth and pulled Hyunjin further into the house. “No, I did not! And- that never happened, by the way- I was just…tired that night.” Jisung and Changbin smirked at each other across the living room as Chan replied.

“Sure, Channie-hyung,” Jisung responded with a little laugh, before returning to his favorite activity- cleaning his knives. Minho was sprawled behind him on the couch, a book in front of his face- but his gaze rested on Jisung’s lithe fingers as they rubbed a white cloth over the gleaming blades.

More crashing sounded from the hallway, and Changbin sat up from where he had been smoking on the windowsill. “What is _wrong_ with him?” he asked, only to receive a shrug from Jisung and no acknowledgement whatsoever from Minho.

Changbin rolled his eyes and looked at his half-finished cigarette longingly, before putting it out on the cushion and getting up to help his hyung. “No goddamned respect, either of you,” he grumbled, just before he was interrupted by a hurried Woojin darting into the room.

“I heard loud crashing- _where are Felix and Jisung?”_ he asked frantically, only to be met with an indignant shout from the floor. “Hey! Why do you always assume something going wrong has to do with me and Felix?” Jisung cried.

Woojin let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him, before merely arching an eyebrow in response- to which Jisung grinned sheepishly. “So…what’s the crashing from then?” Woojin asked. There was a beat of silence, and then-

“Chan-hyung got shit-faced,” Minho said matter-of-factly, turning a page in his book.

Woojin raised the other eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“I did _not!”_ a breathless Chan retorted loudly, finally stumbling into the living room with a still mostly-asleep Hyunjin draped over him. With a sigh of relief, he managed to pull the taller boy off of him and set him down on a nearby chair.

“Thank god that’s finally over,” Chan said with a sigh as he sank into the chair beside Hyunjin. The younger boy finally seemed to shake himself awake and sat upright- before immediately shrinking back into the chair at the sight of four pairs of eyes locked on him.

There was a beat of silence, and then-

“Who the fuck are you?”

 “Chan, who the hell is this?”

“Told you he got shit-faced.”

Chan raised his hands for quiet, effectively shutting up the other boys. “Guys, please. This is Hyunjin, and he’s just staying with us for the night.” Minho gave the new boy a cursory stare before nodding, Woojin dipped his head and smiled, Jisung waved at him (with a knife in his hand), and Changbin-

Changbin dropped his cigarette.

“Shit-” he swore, fumbling to put it out before the cushion caught fire. Hyunjin stared back at Changbin, mouth dropping open as his gaze caught the older boy’s once more. “Hey, you’re a Seo-” he began, only for to Changbin to cut him off with a sharp nod.

“Yeah, and you’re a Hwang.” Chan gave them both a long stare before speaking up, “Care to let us in, Binnie?” Hyunjin mouthed “ _Binnie?”_ at Changbin, who blushed furiously before scowling at the ground and answering Chan.

“We know each other- or of each other, at least,” he amended with a quick glance in Hyunjin’s direction. The younger boy was staring at his hands where they were twisted together in his lap. “How…do you two know each other?” Woojin asked slowly.

Changbin gave a bitter little laugh. “All the rich families of Seoul know each other, hyung. Helps grease the wheels of corruption, you know?” Hyunjin nodded, gaze lifting from his hands to rest on where Changbin had returned to his previous smoking position.

“What are you doing here, Changbin-ssi? Everyone said you’d run off and joined a…a gang.” Changbin merely smirked at him, “Well…” he made a sweeping gesture of the room at large with his hands, and Hyunjin’s eyes widened.

“ _This_ is the gang you joined?” he asked incredulously, looking around at the cluttered room and its occupants. “You guys are…in a _gang?_ ” he continued with a dubious look towards Jisung, who was wearing fuzzy pink socks as he continued to clean his knives.

Chan laughed wryly beside him, “Surprisingly enough, yes. But that’s not important- I promise you won’t be in any danger because of us tonight.” Hyunjin merely nodded, seeming to remember himself and shrinking back into the chair.

“Um- I thank you for taking me in, Chan-ssi,” he said with a bow of his head to Chan. “And I apologize for my…inappropriate manner towards you, earlier.” Woojin’s eyebrows shot up at that, and Chan blushed in embarrassment- before Changbin cut in, “Drop the princely airs, Hwang. They don’t matter here.”

“Well- anyways. You have nothing to apologize for, Hyunjin-ssi. And call me hyung, please.” Chan said quickly, trying to regain control of the situation as Woojin settled him with a piercing stare. “I think it’s time for bed, anyway. We can call you a cab to get you back home in the morning,” Chan continued.

At the mention of going home, Hyunjin swallowed visibly- but he merely nodded in response to the older boy’s words and stood up. “Let’s see…we haven’t had a chance to get an extra bed since Minho got here- so one of us will have to bunk up,” Chan mused.

Jisung slapped his finger to his nose, quickly followed by Minho and Woojin. Changbin looked up from his cigarette to see four grins directed towards him, and he groaned, “Hey, wait a minute-” Chan shook his head, grinning broadly. “You and Felix- since you’re already in the same room and he isn’t here to defend himself.”

Changbin gaped at him, before rapidly shaking his head. “No, wait- _hyung!”_ Chan gave him a pat on the shoulder, “That’s democracy, Binnie. Okay- Jisung, can you get Hyunjin set up in Bin’s and Felix’s room?  Make sure it’s okay with Felix that Changbin bunks with him tonight.”

Jisung nodded and bounded over to Hyunjin, “Hey, come with me.” With a final, panicked glance towards Chan, Hyunjin let himself be led away. Chan turned to Minho and Woojin with a sheepish smile, “Would you guys mind leaving too? Sorry.”

Both nodded and disappeared into the depths of the house. As soon as they were gone, Chan turned to Changbin, a burning question spilling from his lips. “Bin-ah, how much do you know about him?”

Changbin was silent for a long moment, putting out his final cigarette of the night and rolling upright to sit on the edge of the sill. He didn’t look at Chan as he ignored his question, asking instead, “Where did you find him?” Chan sighed in frustration, but answered patiently.

“Drunk and alone in a club. Some older guys were…hitting on him and he wasn’t into it, so I took care of the situation. But…Changbin-ah, how much do you know about his family?” Changbin let out a long sigh, still staring at the floor. “Why do you want to know?”

Chan knelt in front of the younger boy, trying to catch Changbin’s gaze. “He wouldn’t go home, like- he wouldn’t even consider it. The fact that he was desperate enough to come home with me, a stranger…well.” Changbin nodded, finally letting his gaze slide up to Chan’s.

“I’m not his best friend or anything, but- I know a good bit. His parents…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “They’re as bad as mine, if not worse. The typical money-obsessed, absentee parents who only pay attention to their offspring to abuse them, verbally or…otherwise. And- he’s just a kid, you know? Only seventeen.”

Chan gave him a wry smile, “You’re only eighteen.”

Changbin scowled, “Shut up. You know what I mean- I’ve had you. He hasn’t had anyone.” Chan let out a deep sigh, “I thought as much. Well- is he a good kid?” Changbin gave him an odd look, “I mean…yeah. I don’t know him that well, but I think he’s alright. Or as alright as you can get growing up in a house like that.”

Chan nodded, eyes thoughtful. “Well, let’s see how the night goes before we do anything. Time to get to bed, yeah?” Changbin furrowed his brow, “Wait, before we do what?” Chan just smiled at him, dragging the younger boy into a tight hug before ruffling his hair and walking off. “Night, Binnie!”

Changbin growled at his hyung’s back, combing his hair back into place with his fingertips. “Cryptic old fucker,” he muttered, before stalking into his own room- only to stop dead in the doorway. Hyunjin was already fast asleep in Changbin’s bed, sleek dark hair fanned over the pillow and long limbs barely fitting on the mattress.

Even just looking at the boy made Changbin think of his own childhood- it reminded him of who he was before Chan. Just a rich boy with a soju bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and nothing but emptiness inside him.

_A boy full of nothing-_

It had only taken one look at Hyunjin’s eyes to tell that he was the same- an empty shell of a seventeen-year-old boy, filled only with his parents’ regular words of scorn and then ripped apart again.

The seams of his skin threatened to tear apart with each step.

_Dead boy walking-_

Changbin could only hope it wasn’t too late to save him- that is, if Hyunjin even wanted to be saved. He heaved a deep sigh, and then turned to Felix’s bed to see- well, Felix.

Of course.

Honeyed blond hair shining in the moonlight, freckles kissing his golden skin, bow lips parted-

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Changbin swallowed hard- had Felix really agreed to let Changbin sleep with him? _In his bed?_ He stood frozen, hands clenching and unclenching as he fought desperately with himself over allowing himself this _one_ night, _one night_ to feel Felix’s warmth-

_FUCKFUCKFUCK-_

_He is not yours to touch, not yours to hold, not yours to break-_

Disgusted with himself for even thinking about the possibility of sleeping beside Felix- _Felix,_ who was pure and unbroken- Changbin snagged an extra pillow, resigning himself to a night on the floor. He was spreading a spare blanket out as well- when he heard it.

“Hyung?”

Changbin froze for a second, before reluctantly lifting his gaze to see Felix sitting up in bed, staring at him with puffy eyes and impressively tousled hair. “Go back to sleep, Felix-ah,” he said softly, but the younger boy only rubbed his eyes, yawning.

_Fuck, that was so cute- goddamnit, Lee Felix._

“Hyung, why are you on the floor?” Felix asked persistently, more awake now. Changbin heaved a sigh and nodded to his bed, “Chan took in a kid for the night and I lost the draw.” Felix tilted his head, “Jisung told me that- but he said you were sleeping with me?”

Changbin gulped, running through excuses in his head frantically.

Felix ducked his head, an unfairly pretty blush spreading across his cheeks and making his freckles stand out even more. “I mean- if you don’t want to be that close to me…that’s, I understand- um, sorry. I assumed- sorry-”

Changbin couldn’t listen to Felix’s nervous, hurt stammering any longer- not if he wanted to keep his heart intact.

“No- _no,_ I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant,” he broke in, standing up quickly. “I just didn’t know you had agreed to it…um.” It was Changbin’s turn to blush now, and Felix felt a small smile slip onto his lips. With a little surge of courage, he scooted over in the bed and flipped the covers back.

“Hyung?” he asked, nodding towards the space. Changbin gave him a long, piercing look that sent a shiver down Felix’s spine before he hesitantly walked over and laid himself down on the bed, as far as possible from Felix.

Both boys lay there, unmoving, for a long moment. Finally, Felix let out a deep sigh and turned to his side, facing Changbin. “Hyung, you don’t have to be on the very edge of the bed, you know,” he whispered.

Changbin gave him a quick glance before nodding jerkily and scooting over an inch.

Felix rolled his eyes but didn’t comment on his silly hyung, instead letting the scent of gunpowder and cedar wood wash over him in soothing waves. He sighed sleepily as his eyes fell upon Changbin’s profile, knife-sharp features gleaming in the moonlight as the other boy stared up at the ceiling.

_Yep, still really fucking hot._

The scent of cedar wood and gunpowder had become so familiar to Felix now that it was all too easy to let his limbs relax against the bed and his eyelids slip closed. His last coherent thought was of how the black waves in Changbin’s eyes…no longer seemed quite so terrifying.

Changbin could feel Felix’s warmth seeping into his skin from the other side of the bed, and he couldn’t help but look over to see the other boy had already fallen asleep. He looked so much younger in sleep- even more innocent than in real life.

_God,_ Changbin wanted nothing more than to protect him.

_A boy woven from gold-_

The world was already so dark- Lee Felix’s light could not be dimmed as well.

Changbin wouldn’t allow it.

And with these thoughts in his mind and his body turned towards Felix slightly, Changbin felt his consciousness slip further and further from his grasp as he relaxed against the mattress.

 

Felix was running.

Hot, white sand flew up from below his feet as he sprinted towards the sparkling blue strip of ocean that lay before him. The sun beat down on his bare, freckled back and the sky was an unending expanse of blue, and _he felt so free_ -

Felix was home.

He threw his arms wide and let out an ecstatic yell as his feet hit the water, splashing salty drops onto his skin as he plunged deeper into the sea. It had been so long since he had felt Australia underneath his feet- in all its wild glory.

_Homehomehome-_

He was much deeper now, treading water as the sandy beach grew further away behind him. Felix felt no fear though- after all, he belonged in the ocean. And it had been _so fucking long_ since he had been able to swim in the waters he grew up in.

_Finally finally home-_

The beach was now no longer in sight- and Felix began to wonder why his limbs were still kicking so frantically, taking him further out into the ocean. The water grew colder- _darker-_ and Felix knew this meant the sea floor was now _very_ far below him.

He wasn’t afraid- not quite yet- but the rapidly darkening sky and now-freezing water was sparking worry in his veins. With a shrug, he twisted around to turn back- only to find he couldn’t.

_Oh god-_

_A riptide-_

The water was sucking him further and further out, and Felix’s thin limbs were helpless against their unfathomably strong pull. The hot sun was now completely smothered by thick black clouds, twisting into bizarre shapes in the sky. Felix struggled harder to swim at least parallel to the shore, but-

It was hopeless.

_Oh god oh god please-_

Felix was drowning.

The wind began to scream in his ears as the black waves churned around him, dragging him deeper deeper _deeper_ -

_I can’t breathe I can’t breathe-_

The ocean swallowed Felix up easily.

He screamed out into the black water surrounding him, tossed and turned among the wild currents-

_I’m all alone-_

_I’m going to die alone-_

_I CAN’T BREATHE I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T-_

“Felix! Wake _up!”_

Felix choked on a silent scream, flying upright- only to find the black waves surrounding him had melted away, replaced by peeling wallpaper and a blurry view of the moonlit bedroom he had fallen asleep in.

_I’m going to die alone-_

“Felix-ah, are you okay?”

Felix turned slowly to see Changbin sitting upright beside him in the bed, black-night hair mussed and stormy dark eyes full of worry as he looked at Felix.

Those eyes-

_Wild black waves-_

_I don’t want to die alone-_

Felix burst into tears.

_God, such a crybaby all the goddamn time-_

He frantically slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound of his sobs, curling into himself as he desperately tried to stem his tears. Why why _why_ was he always at his weakest in front of Changbin? No wonder the older boy didn’t want to be close to him…

“Oh, _Lix-_ tell hyung what’s wrong. Please,” Changbin begged beside him, heart cracking just a little more at the sound of each sob that escaped from Felix’s lips. The younger boy just shook his head, shrinking into himself even more as his sobs shook his small frame.

_Stupid little crybaby-_

_Die alone die alone die alone-_

Out of nowhere, Felix felt strong arms circle around his shaking body and pull him into Changbin’s lap. The ever-familiar scent of cedar wood and gunpowder surrounded Felix as Changbin pressed him closer still to his body.

“You can cry, it’s alright. Hyung’s got you, Felix-ah. I’ve got you.”

Changbin tightened his arms around the broken boy in his lap, his heart breaking at the sound of Felix’s muffled crying. This was so _wrong-_ for Felix to be anything but happy. It was so _wrong_ for this beautiful boy to have tears on his cheeks when he was made of sunlight.

_A boy woven from gold-_

_So goddamn wrong-_

All Changbin could do was hold him close and wish desperately for a way to protect Felix from the nightmares in his own mind, from the twisted world around them-

And from the mess that was Seo Changbin.

The boy in his arms slowly began to quiet down as his sobs grew further and further apart. He let out a little sigh- the feeling of his breath against Changbin’s skin sent shivers down his spine- and whispered, “Hyung…could you hum for me?”

_Um- what?_

Changbin’s jaw dropped, but he recovered enough to stammer out, “Felix- you…what? Hum-?” Felix wriggled closer to Changbin to hide his burning cheeks. “I’m sorry, hyung, it’s just- my mom always used to do this for me when I got nightmares as a kid. I just-”

He cut himself off, unconsciously clenching his still-trembling hands into Changbin’s shirt as embarrassment swept over him in waves. “Sorry, never mind- I’m being stupid, forget about it,” Felix muttered, eyes squeezing closed.

Changbin quieted him with a soft hush, tightening his arms around the younger boy. He sighed internally- _god,_ Jisung had been so right when he had called him whipped- and cleared his throat.

_Here goes nothing._

As the rough, low sound of Changbin’s soft humming began to curl around Felix, he couldn’t help but let a tiny smile sneak onto his lips as he let himself melt against his hyung- this boy who was _far_ more caring than he appeared.

_Hyung’s got you-_

_I don’t want to die alone-_

_I’ve got you, Felix-ah._

 


	12. the fourth addition pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA! THIS IS ON TIME FOR ONCE! Take that, bitches!  
> (lol don't expect this from me all the time)  
> but neways...might regret posting this chapter but! we all need a break from angst, don't you think?  
> also I promise the maknaes will come soon!

_Holy shit-_

Chan slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

He couldn’t wake them up, not now- but it was so hard to stay quiet when the view before him was so fucking priceless.

Changbin and Felix were still fast asleep in Felix’s bed- but during the night, Felix had managed to koala himself onto Changbin completely. Each of his limbs were wrapped around Changbin as he pressed right up against the older boy’s side, face buried in Changbin’s neck.

As for Changbin, held captive as he was by the other boy, he had still managed to wrap both of his arms around Felix’s waist protectively, holding the younger boy against him just as tightly as Felix was clinging to his side.

Chan grinned widely at his dongsaengs- he had known exactly what he was doing when he made them bunk up last night, but this was even better than he had expected. Chan looked over to Changbin’s bed to see Hyunjin was still asleep as well- a tangled mess of limbs and ruffled dark hair were all that was visible of the younger boy.

Chan tilted his head as he looked over this boy- one whose empty eyes had reminded him of a fifteen-year old Changbin so much that it made his chest ache. One look, one haunted smile- and Chan was seventeen again, holding a young, shaking Changbin in his arms.

Seventeen again and opening the door late at night to find Changbin on the doorstep, hands trembling and eyes red as he begged Chan to let him stay there- because “I can’t stay another night in that house, _please hyung-”_

Seventeen again and screaming brokenly at Changbin that if he wanted to survive, he had to _choose to live-_

And now-

Chan was twenty-one years old and it still hurt like hell to feel his heart break over and over again for those around him.

He already wanted to protect Hyunjin so badly- wanted to shield him from the demons that Hyunjin no doubt faced in his childhood home.

But not everybody wanted to be protected.

Not everybody wanted to survive.

And Chan couldn’t yet tell what Hyunjin’s choice would be, if it came down to it.

_Don’t get ahead of yourself here, Bang Chan-_

With a sigh, Chan looked back over to the still-oblivious couple wrapped around each other in Felix’s bed. A mischievous grin slid onto his face as he put all thoughts of Hyunjin away in favor of enjoying the morning as it was.

_I bet Woojin would kill to see this-_

 

“Bin-hyung’s gonna fucking combust- this is the best day of my life.”

Changbin furrowed his brow, unwilling to open his eyes just yet. He felt so, _so_ warm- and so at peace. This was the best sleep he’d gotten in years, and he wanted it to last just a little bit longer. _God_ , since when was his bed this soft- and since when had it smelled so _goddamn_ amazing?

“Keep it down, you’re gonna wake them up!”

Changbin groaned internally and begrudgingly opened his eyes- only to look down and see someone had completely wrapped themselves around his body, with his own arms tight around their waist.

And that someone was Felix.

_HOLY FUCKING SHIT-_

Changbin’s heart stopped.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-_

On the verge of complete panic, he was trying to figure out how to slip out of Felix’s grasp without waking the younger boy when- an unmistakable cackle sounded from the doorway. Changbin’s head shot up to see…Chan, Woojin, Jisung, and Minho in the doorway, all cracking up at the sight of him.

Panicking even more ( _if one of them takes a picture, I’m done for)_ , Changbin redoubled his efforts to escape Felix’s hold- but to no avail. The younger boy had latched onto him like an octopus- there was little chance of a getaway.

He looked back up to see tears literally streaming down Jisung’s cheeks as the boy shook with laughter at his predicament- Changbin had never wanted to murder him more than in that moment. Giving up on breaking free on his own, Changbin growled at them, “Help me, you fuckers!”

While he was distracted, one of Changbin’s arms had slipped loose from around Felix’s waist- and the younger boy let out a quiet whine, snuggling ever closer to Changbin in search of warmth. Changbin looked down at him with wide eyes, cheeks blazing red.

Felix looked even more angelic in the soft morning light, tangled blond hair gleaming bright in the sun’s rays and eyes shut tightly.

Changbin gulped.

His gaze shot back up to the doorway, where he sent his so-called friends a pleading look. “Please, quick- before he wakes up!” Jisung just winked at him exaggeratedly, while Chan and Woojin shared a grin. Changbin fell back against the bed, groaning in defeat.

“Mmpf…huh?”

He froze, gaze sliding down to where Felix was stirring against him. With mounting terror, Changbin continued to watch as Felix’s brow furrowed and he made another sound of confusion-

(which was also a giant fucking problem, because _god-_ Felix’s voice in the morning was so deep and rough and-)

And then Felix opened his eyes.

He took in the room first, frowning in confusion at the sight of his hyungs (and Jisung) in the doorway, and tried to sit up- only to find that he and Changbin were still tightly tangled together. Felix froze, looking up to see Changbin staring down at him with matching panic in his gaze.

_Well, fuck-_

Felix promptly shrieked and jumped backwards- just to fall right off the bed.

Jisung broke out into laughter once more, legs giving out completely underneath him. Before he could hit the floor, Minho caught him by the scruff of his shirt- still giggling madly as he broke Jisung’s fall. Chan and Woojin were draped over each other for support as they cackled in unison.

Changbin peeked over the side of the bed to see Felix in a mess of limbs and blankets, strands of blond hair sticking upright as he stared at the doorway in horror. His gaze snapped back to Changbin’s and both boys blushed madly when their eyes met.

“Ah- sorry about that, hyung,” Felix said sheepishly, and Changbin could only nod, smiling weakly. Mourning the loss of whatever dignity he had had left, Changbin glared at the crowd in the doorway. “Listen here, you motherfuckers-”

“Um…what’s going on?”

Changbin snapped his mouth closed as they all looked over to where Hyunjin was sitting up in bed, looking utterly confused as he surveyed the room. “It’s nothing, Hyunjin,” Changbin said quickly, shooting a scathing glare at Jisung- who had just opened his mouth to reply to Hyunjin with an evil smirk.

Hyunjin tilted his head, “Okay…but why is Felix on the floor?”

 

“Okay- _fuck_ , I think the rice is burning- Hyunjin, I hope you like eggs!”

Felix jumped up, running over to the smoking rice cooker as Chan scraped some eggs onto Hyunjin’s plate. The younger boy nodded in thanks before looking around at the barely-contained chaos that seemed to be characteristic of mornings with 3racha.

Woojin had progressed from fighting with the toaster to a new battle with the coffeemaker, and his quiet cursing provided a nice addition to the beeps of the rice cooker, rattling of dishes, and constant chatter that all of the boys seemed to keep up effortlessly.

Chan was joking with Felix in English as he scrambled eggs on the stove, and Jisung and Changbin were swapping stories of all the crazy shit they used to do (and still did, sometimes). Minho interjected here and there with a witty comment that never failed to crack Jisung up.

They were all so- so _genuine._

So genuinely happy around each other.

It was unlike anything Hyunjin had ever experienced.

He was far more used to achingly polite conversation and barbed questions, thinly veiled insults serving as a side dish to delicate rice cakes and stirred into expensive iseul-cha tea. Far more used to watching his mother’s red lips curl into a pleasant smile as his father shouted-

_A disappointment- you are the heir- a disappointment- the heir- never good enough-_

_NEVERGOODENOUGH-_

Welcome to the Hwang’s.

Hyunjin looked around at the bright, noisy kitchen with its laughing occupants. It didn’t make sense- these were gang members who literally lived in an abandoned building. How could they be so- _happy?_

Hyunjin thought of his own friends- all as rich as him (or pretending to be as rich as him). A group of empty teenage boys tied together by their craving for adrenaline and a willingness to do anything to achieve a sense of freedom- as temporary as it was.

He looked across the table at Changbin, who was still talking with Minho and Jisung animatedly. Hyunjin now understood why Seo Changbin had all but left his family and his former luxurious life- it was because of this.

It was because of these people- these laughing teenage boys all around him.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

_You don’t belong here you don’t belong here you don’t belong-_

_You are alone, and you always have been, and you always will be-_

“So I don’t think I got a proper introduction last night- I’m Felix.” Hyunjin’s gaze snapped up to see the blond grinning beside him, hand extended to shake his. Hyunjin dipped his head in a bow and grasped Felix’s hand lightly.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he replied with a small smile. The other boy’s smile stretched even wider, and Hyunjin distantly wondered if he might be blinded by its force.

“So how old are you? What school do you go to?” Felix asked, only for Jisung to jump in right after with, “Me and Felix go to Seoul High, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer, but then-

“How would you know? You always skip anyways,” Felix said with a scowl. Hyunjin’s eyes widened at the boy’s sudden change in expression, but Jisung only laughed. “Sorry, Lix- I promise I’ll come more so you’re not stuck there alone.”

“Let the guy answer your questions, Jesus,” Changbin broke in. Felix and Jisung looked over at Hyunjin guiltily, and the other boy smiled hesitantly. “It’s fine- I’m eighteen, and I go to…Daewon Prep.” Felix and Jisung looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Daewon Prep? Holy shit, you must be _really_ rich-” Changbin cut Jisung off with a sharp look, muttering, “That’s enough, Jisung.” The other boy snapped his mouth shut immediately, but Hyunjin still felt his ears burn as the topic of his wealth filled the room.

_You don’t belong here you don’t belong here-_

“Fucking finally- coffee’s done!” Woojin called out, holding up the pot as if it were a trophy. “Thank _fuck,_ ” Changbin sighed, holding his mug out. “Good timing, Jin- that’s the last of the eggs too,” Chan said happily, coming over to the table with the pan.

For the first time that morning, the table was quiet as Hyunjin watched all the other boys dig into their food. But as he was quickly learning- silence never lasted long in this household.

“Mmpf- hyung, I can feed myself!”

Hyunjin looked up to see Minho holding chopsticks laden with rice up to Jisung’s mouth as the younger whined. Minho was unbothered by the boy’s protests, relentless in his attempts to get Jisung to eat more.

However, Hyunjin noticed that Jisung didn’t seem to be doing a whole lot to stop the older boy, opening his mouth up dutifully each time. And he looked a little too happy from Minho’s attention to be really upset.

Hyunjin wasn’t the only one to notice- Chan smirked across the table. “I can’t even tell who’s more whipped at this point,” he said in English, to which both Felix and Hyunjin let out quiet laughs. The two Aussies looked at Hyunjin, surprised.

“Wait, you understand English?” Chan asked, and Hyunjin nodded. “Language is a major focus at Daewon. How’d you guys learn?” he asked in an attempt to maintain the polite conversation. Chan and Felix grinned at each other.

“We both moved here from Australia!” Felix said happily, and Chan nodded. “I moved a lot earlier than Felix, though- around when I was fourteen. But he pretty much just got here.” Felix blushed a little but confirmed the statement with a nod.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, “Your Korean is very good, then. Why’d you move here?” And just like that, the table went quiet. Hyunjin looked up to see everyone watching Felix, who had taken to staring at the table.

Surrounded by the people who he cared about most, Felix felt safe and warm and _loved_ and maybe, just maybe-

_Is it time is it time is it time-_

He was so tired of the lies- and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to be rude-” Hyunjin said hurriedly, but Felix just waved him off. “No, it’s fine. Um...my dad died about a year ago, and I have two sisters. So- my mum had to send me here to live with my aunt and uncle, in order to…make ends meet, I guess.”

_Wait, what-?!_

Changbin wasn’t quite sure his lungs were working.

How- _how_ had he never known that? Felix had always just told them he moved to Seoul for family reasons, but- this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. Looking around the table, he saw his shock reflected in each of the other boys’ eyes as well.

Felix looked up and gave them a shaky smile. “Sorry, guys- I just…I decided it was time to tell you anyways. Sorry for lying earlier…that was pretty dumb, I guess.” He let out a sad, wet laugh- and the sound made Changbin’s chest ache with hurt for this boy.

_How could I have not known you were hurting this much-_

_I wasn’t there for you I didn’t protect you from this-_

“I didn’t- I guess I just didn’t want you guys to think…I needed pity?” Felix continued softly, twisting his fingers together in his lap. “Because I don’t need any pity, I swear- I know I seem weak enough already, but-”

_Dark hallways and empty rooms-_

_You will die alone-_

_I want to go home I want to go home please-_

“Felix.” Chan’s low, serious voice made the younger boy gulp and look up. “You’re not weak…no, don’t shake your head. You are _not-_ and it’s perfectly fine that you didn’t tell us about your dad earlier. That’s your story, so you can choose what and when you tell us, alright?”

Despite his calm tone, Chan felt like choking on his own guilt.

_A kid who could use a little protecting-_

_You remind me far too much of myself- I wish I could save you from that-_

_I’m so goddamn sorry-_

Felix nodded a little, but didn’t reply. Silence reigned for a moment more, before- “Oh, _Lix,_ ” Jisung said tearfully, and was out of his chair and wrapping his arms around Felix before anyone else could react.

 How could this boy- who was so readily kind in every way- have been hiding this pain from them?

“I’m fine, Jisung-” Felix said exasperatedly- but the other boy just held on tighter, tears slipping down his cheeks and onto Felix’s shirt. “What- why are you crying, Sung?” he asked, but the other boy only burrowed deeper and ignored his question.

Chan’s gaze met Woojin’s, and the older sighed at the guilt in Chan’s eyes. Guilt wasn’t what Felix needed right now- he needed a goddamned hug.

And just like that, Woojin’s arms were around Felix as well- followed by a worried Chan, a visibly upset Changbin, and a softly smiling Minho. All of the boys clumped together in a pile around Felix- leaving Hyunjin to watch in shock as they did so.

_The fuck kind of gang is this?_

Chan’s head popped up from the pile to give Hyunjin a welcoming smile, “You want in on this hug or not?” Hyunjin gaped at him.

_You don’t BELONG HERE-_

_Fuck that._

“Uh, yeah- yeah, I do.” Hyunjin stood up and hesitantly let himself drape over Jisung’s shoulders to reach Felix. The rest of the boys automatically adjusted to fit him in, and Hyunjin was left to wonder about the last time he had even hugged anyone.

Years ago, maybe.

_You will be alone always-_

It felt nice. Really nice.


	13. the fifth addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this (slightly late) chapter is dedicated to my friend nii bc she likes this fic for some reason…and ALSO BC IT’S ALMOST HER BDAY YES BITCH! Ugh I love her a lot a lot a lot
> 
> okay so this chapter got...HELLA angsty (also lk in honor of nii) so I would recommend listening to your emo playlist if you want to end up crying at your laptop screen like me :D

Seungmin was fucking exhausted.

“Get your ass back in here and _scrub!”_

Really _fucking_ exhausted.

“Are you listening to me, dipshit?”

But that didn’t matter much, not when there were dishes to be washed and pots to be scrubbed and glasses to dry. Not when this was just another late night shift, just like last night- and the night before that, and the night before that and…well.

It didn’t matter much- that was the point. There wasn’t enough _time_ to be exhausted.

(There wasn’t enough money, either- there never was.)

“Do you want to fucking lose your job, you worthless kid?”

The manager was glaring directly at him now, his thin face red from the heat of the kitchen and beady eyes shooting daggers at where Seungmin was slumped against the wall in the break room.

He dipped his head in a bow, “I apologize- I will get back to work immediately.” The manager gave him one last warning glare- just before a crash sounded from within the restaurant, and he rushed off to yell at someone new.

Seungmin sighed and drew himself upright to stand on shaky legs, cradling his stinging hands as he walked back over to the huge sink. Not even bothering to put on the useless, holey gloves laying on the counter, he plunged his rubbed-raw hands right back into the burning disinfected water.

Grabbing ahold of the sponge, Seungmin looked over to see a tower of dirty pots waiting for him next to the sink. He grimaced at the black grease spread thickly over their scuffed surfaces.

_Not enough time to be tired, not enough money, not enough-_

_Fucking exhausted-_

Seungmin began scrubbing.

 

Seoul was cruelly cold at night.

The biting wind was relentless as it tore through the alleyways, and white frost spread thick over the shop windows. Barely anyone braved the weather, leaving the streets hauntingly empty.

Seungmin barely felt any of it.

It was hard to feel much, when you were this goddamn tired. Hard to care about anything other than the thought of rest. _God,_ how was it possible for each day to feel as bad as the last? Surely he would grow used to this life.

He had to- if he wanted to survive.

_You must choose-_

Seungmin sighed and kept walking through the empty, freezing streets of Seoul. His backpack was heavy on his shoulders, a steady reminder of the laptop that lay within it.

A reminder of the job that still needed to be completed before he slept.

_Not enough time to be exhausted-_

He turned the corner and came upon a crumbling building sandwiched between a liquor store and a pawn shop, half its windows boarded and its walls sagging. It would look abandoned if not for the half-lit sign in the front yard reading out, “Park’s Luxury Apartments.”

_Home sweet home._

Stepping into his dark apartment, Seungmin’s eyes alighted upon the coat rack to see his mother’s coat gone- she had already left for her early morning nursing shift at 3:30 am. No surprise there- what with both of them working two jobs and him also going to school, Seungmin barely ever saw his only remaining parent.

It was necessary, though.

_Never enough of anything-_

_You must choose to survive, goddamnit!_

The seventeen-year-old boy sank to the floor in the middle of his pitch-black apartment, wondering what it was like to live without feeling on the verge of collapsing all the fucking time. Wondering what it was like to worry about something other than his next paycheck.

But there wasn’t enough time for self-pity.

_Never enough fucking TIME-_

 He looked over to where his laptop was taunting him from inside his backpack. The job was waiting.

It was time to get to work.

 

Seungmin was eleven years old the first time he touched a computer.

It had been a fat, old model in his public school library. The pixelated screen was cracked across the middle and there was an inch of dust covering the whole thing, but- it worked, nonetheless. With a few uncertain touches from his careful hands, the screen had lit up for the first time in months.

Seungmin was captivated immediately.

Computers made sense- they had systems and rules and manuals, and Seungmin was always able to understand them. They didn’t scream at him about how many bills they had to pay, or sob into his hair at night, or curse his dead father’s name.

Computers didn’t laugh at the holes in his shirts and the duct tape holding together his sneakers. They didn’t smile at him as if he was their best friend- right before pushing him into the dirt. They didn’t snap his glasses in two, saying _poor people don’t really need to see_ -

Anyways.

_Anyways._

Computers made sense. And Seungmin fell in love with that.

So instead of playing sports or joining clubs, Seungmin studied hard enough to get a scholarship at a _rich kid_ school- one where they taught programming and coding in high-ceilinged classrooms, with sleek laptops in front of each student.

It was the closest thing to happiness he ever remembered experiencing.

Except- by that time, the bills were forming sickening towers on the kitchen table and his mother had taken to crying in the shower instead of into his hair. Less and less food showed up in the apartment, and the landlord looked angrier every time he caught sight of them.

_Never enough never enough never enough-_

_You need to do your part-_

_You are such a fucking burden-_

So fourteen-year-old Seungmin got a job working as a dishwasher in a nearby restaurant. And at the same time, fourteen-year-old Seungmin taught himself how to hack.

That was where his second job began: hacking into security systems, personal accounts, bank records- whatever the latest client wanted. Anything for the right price.

It was a dangerous job, sure. But danger tends to pale in the face of utter desperation- and desperation was something Seungmin knew all too well. It was what put him on his feet every morning, what pushed his head upright, what kept him _alive_.

But you can’t eat desperation.

And desperation can’t pay _all_ of the bills.

 

Seungmin swallowed hard, staring at his lit-up laptop screen without really seeing anything. He didn’t have to look at the kitchen table to know the bills were starting to pile up once more, didn’t have to look in the fridge to know there would be nothing more than old kimbap.

_Fuck-_

_So goddamn exhausted-_

He swallowed hard, running his fingers over his laptop thoughtfully. Maybe if he got another job- maybe if he dropped out of school-

_You are such a fucking burden-_

Then he could work more, and they wouldn’t have to worry about school bills at all, and-

_Fuck._

Seungmin felt his eyes well up at the thought of it, and he swiped at them furiously. He _loved_ learning- loved how it made him feel like he had a future for once. Loved how it made him feel like something other than a useless leech, dragging his mother down with every step.

_There has to be another way please god let there be another way-_

His gaze turned steely.

He would find another way, no matter what it took.

_YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING BURDEN-_

_You must choose to live if you want to survive._

Woojin was giving him worried looks again.

Chan sighed and forced his gaze back to the laptop screen in front of him, looking over their finances once more. It was more than a little sickening, if he was being honest.

_Never enough money-_

He needed to find them another job- a big one, where they could make a lot in just one or two nights. He also needed to start thinking about selling some of their stuff, and make a new budget, and figure out what the hell he was going to do about this month’s rent, and-

_Fuck._

All Chan really wanted to do was crawl into Woojin’s arms and cry for maybe a month- and then sleep there for another three.

_Surrounded by his warmth-_

_You have to fucking be better-_

“Channie.”

Chan looked up to see Woojin staring at him with wide, concerned eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, and Chan mustered up a passable smile to reassure the older. “I’m fine, Woojin- damn, you worry about me too much,” he said in an attempt to jokingly tease the other.

It fell flat in the following silence.

“Chan-”

All of a sudden, Woojin’s eyes were too full of concern (concern for _Chan_ ), and his hands were too gentle as they grasped Chan’s, and he was _too goddamn close_ and-

_Please let me help you-_

_I’m not made to be cared for- not made to be loved in this way-_

Chan stood up with a loud screech of his chair, hands tearing out of Woojin’s grasp.

“I’m- I’m going to go for a walk,” Chan said shakily, backing away from _his eyes_ and _his hands_ and _him him him-_

_Woojin Woojin Woojin-_

“Chan, _please-_ ” the hurt in Woojin’s voice was almost enough to make Chan turn around, but-

_Not made to be cared for-_

“I’ll be back soon, Jin.”

He walked out of the door without a backward glance, knowing that if he looked at Woojin’s eyes it would be too much for him to hold back. Knowing that he would collapse into the other’s arms within a heartbeat.

And so the cruelly cold Seoul night welcomed him with open arms.

City lights burned in his tired eyes, and the sounds of sirens and car horns provided the music to which he walked through the streets in search of-

In search of what?

_Who fucking knows anymore-_

Feeling foolish and stupid and already missing Woojin’s warmth, Chan had just turned around to go back- when he heard it.

“Bang Chan-ssi.”

Chan whirled around to see a boy standing on the sidewalk behind him- _had he been there before?_ He was tall- taller than Chan, and he stood with an air of pretended confidence. But his baseball cap was pulled low to throw his face in shadow- and so Chan couldn’t quite read him right.

“It is you, isn’t it?” the boy spoke again, voice barely loud enough for Chan to hear. His voice sounded odd, too- a gravelly kind of low that sounded more than a little forced. Chan raised an eyebrow and put a careful hand on the pistol hidden in his belt.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered warily. “Who wants to know?” The boy took a quick step forward before stopping jerkily, as if holding himself back. “Um- I’m here to make you an offer.” Chan raised his eyebrow higher- this was an odd way for a client to send him a job.

But- _never enough money-_

“Alright...who’s the client?” he asked, wanting to make sure this was legitimate before they went any further. The boy faltered for a moment, a faintly trembling hand giving away his nervousness as he fingered the strap of his backpack.

“Well…you. You’re the client.” His voice had lost a bit of its forced gravelly tone in his nervousness and Chan started to feel a little bad for the kid. But more than that- he was confused.

“ _I’m_ the client?” he responded disbelievingly. “What’s the offer, then?”

The boy ducked his head down, clenching his fists tightly. “I know your gang steals weapons- I can help you with that.” He jerked his chin up suddenly to stare Chan right in the eyes, dark gaze piercing. “I can make you the best weapons thieves in Seoul.”

An amused smile snuck onto Chan’s lips. “Okay…how are you planning on doing that? And for what price?” Still riding on his newfound confidence, the kid said proudly, “I’m a hacker- a damn good one, too. I can hack into the security system of any building you need to steal from.”

Chan was silent, considering the boy before him. Just who _was_ this guy?

Seeming to panic at Chan’s lack of response, the boy spoke faster. “It’ll make your job a hell of a lot easier. And- you’ll be able to take on bigger jobs, too! I- I swear I’d do a good job, I really would.” Chan merely tilted his head.

He noticed that the boy’s frantic tone had lost all pretense of roughness, revealing a melodic, high voice.

_Interesting-_

The boy’s baseball cap slipped back on his head- revealing wide, pleading eyes blinking at Chan from behind crooked, thin-framed glasses. He had taken to clenching nervously at his backpack strap again, his earlier confidence already gone.

_He looks so goddamn young-_

But more than that- his jacket was far too thin for the cold night, and his shirt had been patched far too many times. The kid’s sneakers had been taped together achingly carefully, but were close to the point of falling apart.

But even more than that-

_so young so close to breaking into pieces-_

Desperation cloaked this boy in darkness. And _god,_ how Chan’s chest ached for him.

“Please let me join your gang. _Please-”_

 

Chan had become an orphan at the age of twelve.

_Car horns screaming wind sobbing metal crashing-_

_Fire roaring-_

That night was the worst of his life.

_Eomma please don’t leave me please stay awake-_

It was funny- in a sickening, heart-wrenching kind of way- how quickly your life can change in the span of a second.

_Appa please why won’t you just wake up please-_

Chris Bang died that night.

And Chan- an orphan full of nothing but desperation- was born.

Chan learned a lot after that day- only one month into living in Seoul with his parents and without any other family in the country. As it turns out, very few people actually care about a dirty little orphan who can barely speak Korean.

_Worthless little orphan-_

So he knew a thing or two about desperation. He knew a thing or two about being so _hungry_ and so _cold_ that you would do just about anything.

_You must choose to live if you want to survive, goddammit!_

_Or else you will die._

 

Chan closed his eyes and thought about desperation, about survival- about how the boy standing in front of him reminded so much of himself that it tore his fucking heart in pieces.

_Pleasewakeuppleasedontleaveme-_

_OR ELSE YOU WILL DIE-_

“Of course you can join my gang, kid. Of course.”

 


	14. the fifth addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick PSA: I really appreciate y’all being excited about this fic (bc I am too!), but if you could remember that I do have a life outside of this fic and am trying my best to update as frequently as possible, that’d be great. I really love y’all (: ok that’s it go read the damn chapter before I get soft

“Hyung.”

Changbin practically fell out of the chair from where he had been sitting in the study. He turned to see Hyunjin standing uncertainly in the dark doorway behind him, the taller boy shifting his weight back and forth as he stared at the ground.

“Um-” Changbin responded, only to be cut off a moment later.

“I understand now, hyung.” Hyunjin’s voice was barely audible, his dark eyes glancing at Changbin nervously in the dim light.

“I understand why you left your life behind.”

Changbin felt something in his chest tighten at the younger’s words, watching the way Hyunjin hovered in the doorway as if not _quite_ sure if he was welcome.

_You don’t belong here you don’t belong here-_

“Come here, Hyunjin,” he said softly, and the taller boy looked up in surprise. Changbin gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile ( _how the fuck does Chan do this sort of thing so easily_ ) and gestured toward the empty chair next to him.

The younger boy gave him a tight smile in response, before walking into the room and sitting lightly on the offered chair. Even while nervous, his movements were as graceful and well-controlled as ever. Changbin smirked to himself.

_Years of torturous cotillion, no doubt._

“Care to explain a little?” he asked, and Hyunjin curled in on himself, utterly unused to talking about his emotions with- well anyone, really. Changbin simply waited, knowing all too well what it felt like to keep the jagged glass pieces of your heart locked up deep within you.

_What does it feel like?_

_You know what it feels like._

“Just- I never understood, before. Like yeah, our lives are shit,” Hyunjin gave a sad little laugh. “But…aren’t everyone’s?” He sighed, clasping his hands tightly. “So I figured if I’m going to have a shit life, I might as well do it in comfort.”

_Delicate rice cakes and iseul-cha tea and YOU WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH-_

He made a vague gesture at the building around them. “But that was before- this. Before meeting Chan and the rest of them.” Hyunjin shook his head in disbelief.

“This is all so different from anything I’ve ever known.”

A tiny smile escaped onto his lips. “But…I like it. I like it _so much_ , hyung.”

Changbin grinned widely and reached over to give Hyunjin a hard punch in the shoulder. “Good to see that your parents didn’t completely suck the life out of you, then.” Hyunjin rubbed his shoulder in shock.

“You- you didn’t have to hit me, hyung!”

Changbin only shrugged, grinning at the other boy’s pout. “Get used to it, kid. We’re gang members, not Seoul’s pretty boy elite.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at the other boy’s bravado.

“You’re literally only one year older than me, you know,” he muttered, and Changbin pretended not to hear him- instead fiddling with one of Chan’s Pokémon figures sitting on the desk in the study. Silence stretched around them for a long moment as Changbin considered-

_Fifteen years old-_

_Dead boys walking-_

_Choose to LIVE-_

“You could- stay with us. If you wanted,” Changbin said quietly, embarrassed enough to turn his gaze from Hyunjin as he continued. “Chan wouldn’t mind, you know. You could stay here as long as you like, really.”

Hyunjin was frozen. The thought of living here- _here,_ where mornings were full of soft chatter and burnt toast, where the walls dripped with city lights and secrets, where these boys laughed and cried and _lived-_

Lived their lives, together.

_Like an honest-to-god family._

_You don’t belong here, don’t you understand that?_

_You are alone, and you always have been, and you always will be- never forget that._

Changbin’s eyes darkened as he watched the thoughts in Hyunjin’s head spiral. He leaned forward, catching the younger boy’s gaze in his own.

“Hyunjin. I know what it’s like to live your life- because your life was _my_ life, before. You know this. You know that I understand what it feels like better than anyone.” He sighed, frustrated with himself because he never knew how to get the right words out-

_Dead boys walking together, full of nothing-_

 “ _Think_ about this, please,” Changbin begged as Hyunjin remained silent, the younger refusing to look at him. “Think about how you will choose to live your life, for one goddamn second. _Think-”_

“I am thinking, goddamnit!” Hyunjin burst out. “I’m thinking about how I don’t belong here, and I _never fucking will!_ You all are so-” he made a vague, helpless gesture. “So _genuine_ with each other, and I can’t- I’ve never done that before. With anyone.”

_NEVERFUCKINGGOODENOUGH-_

Silence blanketed the room for a long moment after that, Hyunjin’s words looming in the air. He curled in on himself even more, shame and helpless longing mixing in his gut as he stared at his feet. But there was no fucking way he was going to meet Changbin’s eyes after that-

And that was when Changbin starting laughing.

Hyunjin’s gaze snapped up to stare at the older boy in shock, utter confusion crashing through him as he watched Changbin try helplessly to smother his laughter in his hands. “God, sorry,” the older boy said at last, still smiling. “It’s just- _fuck,_ you’re exactly like how I was. Literally- the exact same.”

Hyunjin could do nothing but gape at him, still hopelessly confused.

Changbin shook his head, grinning at the ceiling. “How did Chan _deal_ with me? I was even more emo than you, fuck.” He looked back at Hyunjin and smirked at the other’s confusion. “Sorry, kid. I’m taking you seriously, I swear.”

Now a little annoyed, Hyunjin had just opened his mouth to retort when- Changbin caught sight of something behind him and sat upright abruptly. Hyunjin watched Changbin’s face immediately soften as whatever he had seen came into view, his entire expression full of tenderness.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. There was literally no fucking point in turning around now- he knew exactly who was behind him.

“Hyunjin, you’re not really going to leave…right?”

Felix came up beside him, doe eyes wide with pleading as he turned his gaze on Hyunjin. The taller boy sighed, silently cursing Felix’s innocent kindness. “It’s not that I want to, Felix, but-” he began, only to be cut off a moment later.

“Then don’t!” the blond retorted with finality. Hyunjin stared at him helplessly as Felix crossed his arms, an adorable pout crossing his features. Changbin sighed, taking pity on Hyunjin and intervening. “Felix-ah…it’s not always that simple.”

“Whose side are you on, hyung?!” Felix whispered furiously, fixing Changbin with a glare that shut the older up immediately. He gave Hyunjin a powerless shrug, sitting back in the chair with an embarrassingly fond smile as he watched Felix begin grilling Hyunjin once more.

“Do you not like us?” Felix asked next, to which Hyunjin shook his head rapidly. “That’s not it-” “Do you miss your parents? It’s not like you have to live here all the time, you know. Like me- I see my uncle every couple of weeks. You wouldn’t be a prisoner!”

Hyunjin could only mouth wordlessly at the other boy, shocked by this uncharacteristic display of stubbornness.

“I guess- I could stay for a bit, then. Maybe.”

Felix gave a self-satisfied nod, “Good. Glad to hear you’ve come to your senses.” And with that, he stalked off into the depths of their home ( _your home too, now-)._ Hyunjin looked back to Changbin, who was staring at the doorway Felix had walked through with a disgustingly affectionate expression.

“Fuck, can’t he give me a break? Like how is it possible for someone to be so- _that,_ all the time?” Changbin said dreamily.

Hyunjin stood up quickly, nearly knocking over the chair. He might be staying with the gang for now, but there was _no way_ he was going to listen to this shit. “Okaygoodtalkbyehyung!” he said in one breath, before rushing out of the room.

Changbin merely smirked and reached for a fresh pack of cigarettes.

 

“Hyung, your bruises are almost all gone now!”

Minho turned to give Jisung a sun-warmed smile, marveling at how easy it was to smile nowadays. His eyes softened as they took in Jisung behind him, the younger boy completely focused on dressing the wounds on Minho’s back with utmost care.

“That’s great, Sungie- must have been your annoyingly constant care, huh?” he responded playfully, to which Jisung blushed _(fuck- he called me Sungie!)_ before smacking him lightly. “Shut up, Chan told me to do this.” Minho widened his eyes in mock-hurt.

“So this isn’t out of the kindness of your heart? Jisung-ah, I’m _heart-broken!”_ The younger boy snickered in spite of himself. His starry eyes gleamed with happiness as Minho turned to face him- unable to resist looking at the younger boy any longer.

“Hyung, quit teasing and let me dress your dumb wounds- or else!” Jisung said exasperatedly, trying to hide how ecstatic he was to see Minho’s playfulness coming out. This side of the older had seemed so rare at first- but as time went on, he loosened up more and more.

And Jisung loved every second of it.

_You and me- we’re the same-_

Minho grinned wickedly, and the younger boy gulped at the devilish look in his eyes. “Or else what, Jisung-ah?” Jisung smirked- two could play at this game. “Or else… _this!”_

And with that, he threw his body on top of Minho’s and dug his fingers into the older boy’s sides, tickling him for all he was worth. Minho screeched and immediately twisted around to retaliate- resulting in the two boys tumbling across the floor like children.

Gasping for air in the midst of their screams and laughter, Minho finally succeeded in throwing Jisung off his back- only for him to end up pinning down the younger boy’s flailing limbs with his body. He looked down to see that he had ended up straddling Jisung, holding down the other boy’s wrists with his hands.

Jisung was still laughing madly- the pure, warm sound making Minho’s chest hurt with how beautiful it was. Minho couldn’t take his gaze off of the boy below him, eyes wide as his laughter died down and he took in-

_Caramel skin and eyes full of stars and mussed dark hair and hidden scars-_

_A broken glass is far more beautiful than its original, don’t you think?_

Minho was utterly captivated.

“Minho-hyung, you’re heavy.”

Minho refocused on the boy pinned under him, his eyes sparkling and those damned pink lips twisted into a smile. “Your fault for starting it,” he responded a bit breathlessly, suddenly unable to deny himself the pleasure of being this close to the warmth that was _Jisung._

Jisung just grinned up at him, utterly content.

_Fuck._

Minho swallowed hard, a wave of _something_ building in his chest-

_So fucking close- close enough to shatter-_

_You are broken, and all that’s left to you is to break something else-_

“Kids, I’m home!”

Both him and Jisung looked to the doorway of the living room just in time to see Chan walk through and stop dead upon seeing them. The leader stood frozen for a moment, before giving them both an exasperated sigh.

“Really, guys? In the damn living room?”

Minho scrambled backwards off of Jisung immediately, cheeks reddening. Jisung sat up as well, the tips of his ears bright crimson as he turned to face Chan. “We were just-” he tried to explain, only to be cut off as Chan held up a hand.

“Trust me, I don’t want to know. And anyways, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He stepped to the side and gestured towards the dark foyer. “Come on out now, Seungmin. It’s alright.”

A tall boy materialized from the darkness and stepped into the room, shoulders stiff and face half-hidden by the shadow of his baseball cap. His hands clutched the straps of his backpack tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Every time you walk out that door you come back with another kid, hyung.”

Jisung and Minho turned to see Changbin had appeared behind them, followed by Hyunjin and Felix. Chan glared at Changbin and stepped closer to the new boy. “And what about it, Binnie?” The new boy did nothing but stand frozen.

Changbin merely shrugged and threw himself onto the window seat, as the rest of the gang arranged themselves around the living room. Jisung cuddled into Minho on the couch happily, not even surprised by the presence of a new gang member at this point.

The older looked down at him with a quicksilver smile, wrapping an arm around the younger’s shoulders to hold Jisung against him tightly. Woojin came in the room next, eyes flying to Chan first before sliding over to the strange boy standing in the living room.

He made no comment, merely going to sit beside Felix on the couch. Chan gulped at the ice in Woojin’s gaze when it landed on him, but knew he deserved every bit of it.

_Not made to be cared for-_

_Just let me fucking help you-_

He would have to fix that later.

For now- he looked over at Seungmin, who was trembling slightly despite his stiff, upright posture. For now, there were other matters to attend to.

 “Okay, guys- this is Seungmin. He’s joining 3racha as our hacker.”

Changbin and Jisung both sat up at that, gazes now intent on Seungmin’s form. _A hacker-_ that would make their jobs a hell of a lot easier…if he was a good hacker, that is. They shared a quick glance before Jisung spoke up.

“A hacker, huh? Are you any good?”

Seungmin tensed before thrusting his chin upwards to stare Jisung in the eyes, throwing his face into the light. “I’m really good, actually,” he said firmly. Chan smiled, an odd sense of pride filling his chest at Seungmin sticking up for himself a bit.

_You remind me so much of myself that it hurts-_

“Well- he just showed me a bit of what he can do, and I figured we might give him a try,” Chan said casually, sending Seungmin a warm look. The younger boy gave him a tight smile in return, before turning and sliding off his hat.

“As Bang Chan-ssi said, I’m Seungmin. Kim Seungmin. I hope we will work well together,” he said politely after bowing to the group at large, doing his best to hide his nerves as the other boys stared at him. Seungmin did his best to not think about the fact that his jacket was three sizes too big for him and dug out of a rubbish bin.

The silence stretched on for an eternity- until Seungmin was practically ready to bolt out of there. But he couldn’t, of course. He needed this.

He needed them.

_Never enough money-_

_You are such a fucking burden-_

“Fuck- I know you.”

Seungmin’s gaze snapped up to see a boy leaning in the doorway, his lanky form impossibly graceful as his gaze burned right through Seungmin’s core. Midnight-smooth hair, electric gaze, wealth practically dripping from his skin-

“ _Hwang Hyunjin?”_

 

 


	15. the fifth addition pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew we’re almost to jeongin (!!!!) but first…seungmin becoming part of the gang! I'm literally so sick rn so hopefully this chapter makes sense lol okay lesgetit

“That would be me, yes.”

Hyunjin smirked, and Seungmin sort of wanted to punch it off of his face.

Sort of.

_How is it legal for someone to be that gorgeous?_

“Sorry, um-” he remembered his place all of a sudden and bowed his head politely, still clutching tight to his backpack straps. “I apologize for yelling out your name like that…I was just surprised to find you here.”

 “Jesus, you _both_ talk like pretty boys?” Changbin said with a scoff from the windowsill. “Are you guys related or something?”

Seungmin couldn’t restrain his grin as Hyunjin choked on his own spit at the thought of- _them? Related?_ “We go to the same school,” Seungmin explained when it became clear Hyunjin was having trouble speaking.

They all became silent at that, and Seungmin resisted the urge to curl in on himself. He knew he didn’t look like he attended a _rich kid_ prep school in the slightest- but it still hurt to be reminded of that fact.

Finally recovered, Hyunjin managed to gasp out, “We’re in the same math class, right?”

It wouldn’t have mattered if they weren’t- everyone who went to Daewon Prep knew who Hwang Hyunjin was, even if you were the resident poor loner like Seungmin. The other boy’s famous family and even more famous looks were enough to make him akin to high school royalty.

Seungmin found it all positively sickening, of course.

But he wasn’t about to say all that, so he gave Hyunjin a nod, “Not that you’re ever there.” Hyunjin grinned sheepishly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head absentmindedly. “Well…I don’t always find it completely necessary to go, you see.”

Seungmin refrained from rolling his eyes. What in the hell was this spoiled prep boy from his fucking math class doing _here-_ in the supposed headquarters of a city gang? He narrowed his eyes.

“This _is_ a real gang, right?” he turned to Chan sharply, and the older boy nodded. “Last time I checked, we’re a genuine pack of criminals.”

Seungmin turned back to meet the electric gaze of Hwang Hyunjin once more, his own dark eyes calculating. “So you’re…part of a gang?” At this, Hyunjin looked uncomfortable for the first time. He shifted his weight, finally dropping his gaze from Seungmin’s.

 “No, not really,” he said lowly. Seungmin furrowed his brow in confusion. He knew he was being rude at this point, but this just didn’t _make sense._ “Then why…?” he ventured, before cutting himself off with a sigh.

This wasn’t his business.

Whatever Hwang Hyunjin- gorgeous, untouchable Hwang Hyunjin- did with his time was none of Kim Seungmin’s business.

But then-

“They’re kinda my friends, I guess.” Seungmin’s gaze snapped up to see Hyunjin smiling shyly at the other boys in the room. “If you’re wondering why I’m here, that’s why.”

Before he could respond, there was a chorus of protests from the rest of the room’s occupants. “ _Kinda_ your friends? What does _that_ mean, asshole?” A blond boy leaped to his feet, shouting incomprehensibly as the rest continued to yell in anger.

Hyunjin burst out laughing, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, _okay,_ I’m sorry! You guys are my friends, Jesus.” Seungmin could only stare in shock at Hyunjin as he turned into someone practically unrecognizable right in front of his eyes.

Where was the Hwang Hyunjin that swept through the school hallways with eyes full of ice and wealth dripping in his wake?

Where was the infamous “ice prince” of Daewon Prep?

Because all he could see right now was a teenage boy laughing his heart out with his friends in the back of an abandoned shop, eyes crinkled with happiness and smile stretching wide across his lips.

Hyunjin’s gaze met his once more, and Seungmin forgot how to breathe.

_Electric gaze- midnight hair- the untouchable ice prince-_

_Everything I could never be-_

_Who are you?_

And that was when the phone rang.

Seungmin watched in surprise as all the boys immediately fell silent and Chan practically sprinted into the other room. Only Hyunjin looked a little caught off guard- everyone else started whispering to each other solemnly as they listened to Chan pick up the phone.

What was going on this time?

Felix took pity on the boy standing awkwardly in their living room, and walked over to him with a smile. “Seungmin, right?” Seungmin gave him a tentative nod, bowing his head again just to be sure. “No need for that, you look like you’re the same age as me,” Felix laughed.

Seungmin smiled- Felix’s slight build and innocent features certainly didn’t scream ‘hyung’ to him, but you never knew. “I’m seventeen, what about you?” he asked.

Felix grinned brightly, “Me too! So is Jisung and- well, you already know Hyunjin.” He gestured at the two other boys before turning back to Seungmin. “So you go to Daewon Prep, then? Me and Jisung go to Seoul High!”

Seungmin nodded, unsure how to respond. Seoul High was sort of known for being the… _lesser_ school in the area, what with its severe lack of funding and reputation for gang involvements, but he wasn’t about to bring that up.

“Um...that’s cool!”

_Cool?_ God, he hadn’t talked with another kid his age outside of school or work in…years, maybe. Fuck- he really was a loser.

Felix graciously ignored his embarrassment and instead tugged Seungmin towards the couches where the rest of the boys were sitting. “You need to meet everyone! Okay, so- Changbin in the windowsill, Jisung with the knife, Minho next to Jisung, and then Woojin!”

Each boy gave him a nod or wave as they were introduced and Seungmin dipped his head to each of them in return. Felix turned back to him, still smiling brightly. “And you already know Chan and Hyunjin! It’s going to be great having another 2000 liner around-”

“We need to go.”

They all looked up to see Chan in the doorway, nine years of survival lining his shoulders and gaze full of steel.

It was time.

As the other three gang members raced out of the room, Seungmin turned to see Chan giving him an appraising look. “How about it?” the older boy asked. “Ready for your first job with 3racha?”

_Not at all._

“Of course,” Seungmin said out loud, already kneeling to take his laptop out. “Just tell me the name of the area.” He ignored the trembling in his fingers as he tried not to think about what it might mean if he failed.

_Never enough money-_

_You cannot afford to fail- not if you want to survive._

“Jeokseon-Dong Place.”

Seungmin took a deep breath and lifted his fingers to the keys. “Got it.”

Time to survive.

 

Minho followed Jisung up to his- _their?-_ room, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched Jisung pull dark clothes over his small limbs. The younger boy’s movements were jerky and his eyes distant as he went through the motions of preparing for a raid, and Minho-

Minho was fucking worried.

He shouldn’t be, he knew this- Jisung was his own person, and an incredibly capable one at that. He had joined a gang when he was sixteen, for fuck’s sake. Out of the two of them, Minho was by far the weaker one- years of abuse tended to do that to you.

And yet-

Jisung was seventeen and scarred and _terrified_ of what he was about to do.

And Minho was the only one who seemed to notice.

“Jisung-ah, can you look at me?”

The younger boy paused in the middle of yanking his standard black beanie over his head, and turned to look at Minho with a wide-eyed gaze. “What is it, hyung?”

Minho met his eyes with a hard stare. “Are you…okay?” Fuck, he was so terrible at this. Luckily, Jisung didn’t seem to notice, instead just nodding and smiling at Minho.

That smile-

_You and me- we’re the same-_

Minho hated that smile on Jisung’s face. He rarely saw it, but it was always too wide and too perfect and too _not-Jisung._ He had seen it too many times in his own mirror, and it was far worse to see it on Jisung- who usually smiled as easily and beautifully as the sunrise.

That _other_ smile didn’t belong on his lips.

“Jisung, the last time you went on a raid…”

_Hyung, I’m so scared- please-_

_I can’t- I can’t- I can’t-_

 “I’ll be fine, Minho-hyung.”

Jisung’s voice lost its warmth, and the younger boy glared at the floor. Minho’s heart sank as he watched Jisung’s fingers tremble where they were clutched around the crumpled beanie. There was so much he wanted to do for this boy- so much he wished he could make disappear.

_I’m not leaving you-_

In one fluid movement, he rolled off the bed to stand in front of Jisung, ducking his head to catch the younger boy’s lowered gaze. The words collecting on his tongue were all too much for this broken boy in front of him, but- he had to _try_.

“I need you to tell me you’ll be alright,” Minho said, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

_Hyung, I’m so scared-_

“Tell hyung you’re scared, and I’ll get you out of it all- I swear.”

Jisung looked up at him at last, starry eyes wide under the dark intensity of Minho’s gaze. “Hyung-”

_A broken glass is far more beautiful than its original, don’t you think?_

Minho was drowning among the stars in Jisung’s eyes, and he felt his chest ache from the lack of air.

 “I’ll be okay, hyung. I have to be,” Jisung said at last, his voice- _the voice that Minho could never get out of his head_ \- quiet but firm. “This is what I do- this is _who I am_.”

“I can’t live without it, Minho-hyung.”

Minho nodded, “Okay- but it doesn’t have to be, that’s all. It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, Jisung-ah.”

Fuck, what was he even saying at this point? Shoving handfuls of shaking words at Jisung in hopes they would take his scars away, in hopes they would protect this boy better than he could on his own-

_Fuck._

“Hyung’s worried, that’s all,” Minho relented with a half-smile, reaching out to muss Jisung’s hair in the way he knew the younger boy only pretended to hate. Jisung ducked his head, scowling- but Minho didn’t miss the light in the younger boy’s eyes.

“Silly hyung- you don’t have to worry for me,” Jisung said confidently, yanking the beanie over his head at last. “Remember who you’re talking to- a total badass, right?”

He turned and gave Minho the cockiest damn grin he could manage, all caramel skin and white teeth shining in the dim light.

God, Minho wanted to kiss the smirk right off his face.

_You are broken, and all that’s left to you is to break someone else-_

“Badass, huh?” he said instead, arching an eyebrow. “Would a badass scream if I tickled them, I wonder?”

“Hyung, _no-!”_

 

 

Hyunjin was kind of- just a little bit- in awe.

Like- here was _Kim Seungmin-_ the kid from his fucking math class, on the floor of the living room in the 3racha headquarters. And he was hacking into a fucking weapons manufacturer’s warehouse security system.

You know- just as one does.

Casually.

Hyunjin could only wonder just how much crazier his life his would get.

Except- that wasn’t even the whole issue. Out of every kid in his math class, of course it had to be _Kim fucking Seungmin_ who showed up at 3racha’s door and walked right in.

Kim Seungmin, who walked the halls of Daewon Prep with his glasses taped together and his mind a million miles away.

Kim Seungmin, who never responded to the insults thrown at him and whose features never lost their perfectly tailored blankness.

Kim Seungmin, whose wide brown eyes and neatly collared shirts gave him the perfect picture of innocence-

And who made Hyunjin want nothing more than to mess him up a little. Run his fingers through the other boy’s hair, tilt his glasses lopsided, rumple his shirt a bit-

Just to see what was beyond that mask.

Just to see what it was like when Kim Seungmin smiled.

But that was very gay- and also very not allowed.

Because Hyunjin was _Hwang fucking Hyunjin_ and so he couldn’t get close to anyone his parents deemed unrespectable without risking punishment. Because Hyunjin was _Hwang fucking Hyunjin_ and him paying attention to the poor loner kid wouldn’t do anything to help Seungmin, and he knew that.

Because Hyunjin was _Hwang fucking Hyunjin_ and he was a coward.

A coward that didn’t even deserve to speak to Seungmin after letting the other boy get pushed around for years without doing anything, and he was a _cowardcowardcoward-_

“Could you not just stand there and stare at me while I’m trying to work?”

Hyunjin started, focusing on the sight in front of him once more. Seungmin was glaring at him from the floor, cross-legged and balancing his laptop on his knees as he typed furiously. Oh right- he was still hacking into a weapons manufacturer’s security system.

Casually.

“Um, sorry-” Hyunjin made a quick sweep of the room to find that everyone else had left to prepare for the raid. He could hear Felix clanging pots angrily in the kitchen, no doubt still upset from being told he couldn’t go on yet another raid- if the earlier conversation between him and Changbin had been anything to go off of.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” he asked, and Seungmin gave him a dark look at being interrupted from his work. “Because this is how I work,” the other boy responded curtly, before his gaze flew back to the computer screen.

_Alright, then._

“Seungmin- what are you _doing_ here?” Hyunjin burst out, unable to keep it in any longer. This just didn’t make sense- the sweet, quiet boy from his math class was an illegal hacker? What world was this?

“I’m doing my job- something you probably can’t even begin to understand,” retorted Seungmin, and Hyunjin’s eyes widened.

_Maybe not so sweet, then._

“But- how did you end up doing this kind of thing? You don’t really…seem like the type to be in a gang.” Hyunjin knew he should probably shut up, given he didn’t have the right to even look at this boy, but he couldn’t help it.

He wanted to know _everything_ about Kim Seungmin.

“And you don’t seem like the type to be friends with an entire gang, but here we are,” Seungmin shot back. He typed a last few lines before slamming the laptop shut and standing. Just as he was about to walk towards Chan with the news that the security system was breached, he turned back to Hyunjin.

“I do _this kind of thing_ because this is what it takes for me to survive. I know you couldn’t possibly understand that right now, but maybe you should try.”

And with that, Seungmin walked out of the room.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

_Not so sweet or quiet, then._

_But really fucking cute, still._

_Fuck._


	16. the sixth addition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all the last stray kid arrives at last…can you believe it took me 40k words to get them all in there? (idk what’s wrong with me either tbh) also I’m rly sorry this one is a bit late…jesus y’all don’t know how hard this chapter was to write. it's also a bit more action-y bc I was missing my gang shit

The city was shivering.

Jisung let his head fall against the car window, gaze firmly on the dark night sky while he did his best not to think of Minho’s equally dark gaze as the older said-

“ _tell hyung you’re scared, and I’ll get you out of it all-”_

How did he always seem to know what was going on in Jisung’s head?

What was about this glass boy that pulled Jisung to him so irrevocably?

Jisung looked down at the knife in his hands, his grip white-knuckled on the flashing silver. The worst part about it all was that he _was_ scared- terrified of what he was about to do, for the first time. One bullet, and he was right back to-

_Four years ago and cracked bones and screaming into his hands-_

One bullet was all it took.

Jisung sighed and tried not to miss the feeling of Minho’s arms around him. This life was all he had- and he wasn’t going to let his goddamn fears stop him from living.

He gripped the knife harder and closed his eyes against the night sky.

The city kept shivering.

 

“Are you mad that I brought Seungmin home?”

Chan couldn’t make himself meet Woojin’s gaze as he asked the question, instead gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove them towards the warehouse. Woojin gave him a quick glance from the passenger seat, features impassive.

“You’re the leader, Chan. You make the decisions,” he said shortly. Chan felt his heart sink at the ice in Woojin’s tone. He’d fucked up, that was for sure. The only question was- how badly? And what would it take for him to fix it?

“Woojin- you know that’s not how I do things,” he said carefully, trying to keep his tone calm. The other boy let out a long sigh. “Chan, I’m not mad you brought Seungmin home, and you know that. He’ll be a great help…and I think seeing him and Hyunjin interact will be interesting, to say the least.”

Chan looked over to share a smile with Woojin at the last comment, recognizing the joke for the olive branch that it was. “Seems like there’s some history there, yeah. They’re good kids, though.”

His eyes slid to the rearview window, where he saw Jisung and Changbin in the backseat. Both boys were looking out of their windows, uncharacteristically quiet as the car drew closer to the warehouse. Chan sighed at the sight of the exhaustion lining each of their frames.

“They’re all good kids,” he said softly. Chan missed the heartbreakingly fond look in Woojin’s eyes as he looked at his leader, the older boy already feeling his resolve softening. Woojin laughed wryly, gaze returning to the road ahead.

“Bang Chan, you are impossible to stay mad at,” Woojin said quietly. Chan couldn’t help his answering grin, splitting wide and bright over his face as relief flooded his veins. “It’s my sparkling personality and dashing good looks,” Chan said, still grinning.

Woojin rolled his eyes, but returned Chan’s grin with a tiny smile of his own. Chan let the grin slide off his face after a moment, knowing he owed Woojin a whole lot more still.

“Jin, I’m sorry.” He sighed, struggling with himself for a moment. “You…you know I appreciate what you do for me. For all of us.” Chan looked over to see Woojin staring at him, and the tenderness in the other’s eyes was enough to make his chest ache.

Chan forced himself to continue in spite of it. “The thing is…I’m not good at- like, accepting help from people. If that makes sense.” He looked away from Woojin, throat tightening as he tried not to think about-

_So young so close to breaking into pieces-_

_Worthless little orphan-_

“I’ve just been on my own for most of my life- so I learned how to take care of myself. And then-” Chan threw a hopelessly loving look towards the backseat. “Then those two came along and I took care of them too…and I’m just not used to this- not used to you.”

_You must choose to live if you want to survive._

Chan swallowed against the glass shards in his throat and looked over cautiously to Woojin. His breath hitched when Woojin met his gaze dead on, dark eyes flashing with pain and tenderness and- _something else-_

“Not used to me?”

Chan’s heart stuttered at the sound of Woojin’s voice, low and warm in his ears as the other boy moved a fraction closer to him. Chan gulped and risked a look at the other boy’s face.

God fucking _fuck,_ he was gorgeous. Blond hair gleaming in the city lights, dark eyes drawing Chan closer and closer and-

_Blond hair gleaming- get out of here, c’mon- please let me help you-_

_I’m not made to be cared for-_

“Not used to someone wanting to take care of me, I guess. And that’s you,” Chan replied a little breathlessly, adrenaline spiking through his veins. Woojin’s eyes softened, and he let his hand brush feather-light over Chan’s arm.

His touch lit wildfires on Chan’s skin.

“Get used to it, Channie. Because I’m not going anywhere now.” And with that, Woojin smiled widely and leaned back into his seat, acting as if he hadn’t just given Chan a fucking heart attack. Chan struggled to remember what breathing was like for a good minute afterwards.

“Um- hey, since when are you allowed to call me that?” Chan protested, desperately trying to regain any sense of dignity. Woojin just laughed in response, and Chan couldn’t but smile at the warmth in the sound.

He’d missed this in the past couple days- Woojin’s laugh. His undeniable warmth. His eyes alight with happiness as he looked over at Chan, and-

“I think we’re almost there.”

Chan nearly jumped at the sudden sound of Changbin’s voice, having forgotten that the other boys were still in the backseat. Well, fuck- that was embarrassing. He cleared his throat and peered through the windshield at the passing street signs.

“Yep, just about.” He nodded, trying to ignore the sudden twist of anxiety in his gut. This was a fucking warehouse they were stealing from, not just another gang’s headquarters. And he _knew_ Jisung wasn’t fully recovered from his bullet wound, and-

_Just another job, just another night. Just like any other._

Chan hoped that was true.

 

It wasn’t.

 

“Jisung, try the left,” Changbin whispered into his mouthpiece, catching the other boy’s gaze and nodding to the opposite hallway. The other boy wasted no time before running down the hallway, leaving Changbin to make for his own.

The warehouse was far bigger than any of them had expected. This was the third time him and Jisung had tried different routes to the stash- and it needed to be the last one if they wanted to make it out of this job with a good profit.

And to make things even better, their communication with Chan had been cut off.

Fucking perfect.

Changbin wished he had a cigarette.

He shook his head- it was time to focus. Sprinting faster, he finally reached the end of the hallway- only to stumble upon Jisung already at the other side. He mouthed “ _what?!”_ at the other boy, and Jisung just shrugged helplessly.

This place was a fucking maze. Frustrated, Changbin ran a shaking hand through his hair as he tried to think of a different route.

Time was running out- they needed to be at the stash by now.

_Fuck we need this job so badly-_

“Hyung!” About to scold Jisung for being so loud, Changbin whirled around- only to see the younger boy pointing towards a cracked door nearly hidden in the shadows. “I think it’s the passageway,” Jisung whispered, and Changbin frowned.

“How do you know?”

Jisung shrugged. “I can feel it, hyung.” Shaking his head at the younger’s characteristically weird behavior, Changbin sighed. “Fucking fine- only because I’m desperate, you brat.” The younger boy grinned brightly and dashed through the door without waiting for Changbin.

“Wait for your hyung, idiot,” Changbin muttered to himself as he ran after the younger boy. But now wasn’t the time for lectures, and they both knew this.

_Time is running out- time is runningrunningrunning-_

_out._

Changbin ran for his fucking life.

He nearly collided with Jisung at the end of the passageway, the younger boy turning and giving Changbin his signature cocky grin. Changbin walked past him to see- the stash. All right there in front of them.

Jisung was fucking right.

“I hate you sometimes,” he mouthed to the younger boy, who just grinned more smugly in response. “Whatever. Let’s go, hotshot,” Changbin said, and both boys ran forward to collect as many weapons as possible from the dark room in front of them.

And that was when things went wrong.

Changbin had run straight forward into the room- and then he immediately collided with another person.

“What the _fuck?”_

That was sure as hell not Jisung’s voice.

Changbin jumped backwards with practiced grace and whipped out his flashlight to point it directly in front of him. The light found the outline of another person dressed in all black, their mask hiding everything but a pair of wide night-sky eyes.

There was another fucking person in the room.

_There was another fucking person in the room._

“Who the fuck are you?” Changbin said before he could stop himself. The other person glared at him, dark gaze intimidating. “None of your business.” Their voice was muffled by the fabric, but distinguishable enough to understand.

Changbin already had his other hand on his gun, and he shook his head slowly. “I won’t repeat myself,” he said. The other person made a sound of frustration and whipped out their own gun, training it on Changbin’s heart with practiced ease.

“Leave or I kill you.” Their voice was firm enough, but Changbin saw their fingers shaking as they held the trigger. He smirked. “You might want to put that gun down now,” he said.

“Or what?” snarled the person.

“Or you die.” And _there_ was Jisung, at last.

Changbin’s smirk grew wider at the sight of Jisung’s knife on the person’s throat, the impossibly sharp edge already slicing straight through the fabric. The younger boy held the person’s head locked in place with his other hand, and his dark gaze showed no hint of mercy as he gazed at them.

_We sure make one hell of a team._

Changbin pulled his gun up to point at the stranger’s heart, his own hands steady. “Now tell us why you’re here.” The stranger growled in frustration, and Jisung pressed the knife a little harder. “Fuck- to steal their weapons, okay?”

Jisung met Changbin’s gaze, wide-eyed. Another thief- and at the same time as them?

_What are the fucking odds?_

_Timeisrunningout-_

“Well, this is our job,” Changbin bit out angrily. “So get the fuck out.” The stranger struggled in Jisung’s grasp, his gaze narrowing in fury. “Fuck that- it’s _my_ job, and I’ll kill both of you if that’s what it takes to get this job done.”

Changbin rolled his eyes. “Tie him up, Jisung.”

The younger boy nodded, following directions for once as he made short work of restraining the stranger and tying their bound limbs to a shelving unit. He gave them a bright smile when he was done. “When we’re done here, security will walk right in and find you. Oops.”

“Don’t tease,” Changbin said half-heartedly, before both boys focused on stuffing their packs with as many weapons and weapons parts as possible. They were practically finished a few minutes later, and Changbin was so close to thinking that maybe this job would actually be a success-

And that was when the stranger got free.

Changbin whipped around just in time to see the stranger leap at him from the corner, their skinny limbs surprisingly strong as they sprang forward. Changbin dodged just in time, immediately turning with his gun at the ready.

The stranger rolled to their feet and pulled out a gun, but Changbin noticed they seemed just as reluctant to shoot as he was. They were smart, then- a gunshot would immediately alert security, and they all knew it.

“Did you not fucking tie him up tight enough?” he hissed at Jisung, who had three knives glinting in each hand as he regarded the stranger in front of him. “Fuck you,” was all Jisung spared him in response, before both boys leapt at the stranger in perfect timing.

Even as he fought the (surprisingly good) stranger, Changbin felt the press of time close around his throat tighter and tighter. They needed to get out of here, and _soon._

_Time is running OUT-_

Gritting his teeth, Changbin rolled away to let Jisung handle the stranger by himself for a moment. It was time for a gamble with death. Training his gun on the stranger’s feet, he squinted and aimed-

The door burst open.

And that was when things went _really, really_ wrong.

Five security guards poured into the room, guns at the ready as sirens began to scream overhead. Changbin groaned, “Jesus fucking _fuck,_ can we never get a break?” And a moment later, all hell broke loose as the three thieves began to fight for their lives.

Working back to back, Jisung and Changbin managed to get closer to the door as the former threw knives at a dizzying speed and the latter shot bullet after bullet. It also didn’t hurt that two of the guards had focused on the stranger alone.

Finally managing to take out the three guards on their backs, Changbin sprinted for the door- only to find Jisung not beside him. He turned back to scream at Jisung, but the other boy wasn’t looking at him. Instead, his gaze was on the stranger- who was being obviously beat by the two guards.

_TIMEISRUNNINGOUT-_

“Jisung, we need to _go!”_ Changbin could barely keep himself from screaming the command, but Jisung only turned to look at him with a wide gaze. “Hyung- I know he’s not ours- but we can’t just…” Changbin took hold of the younger boy’s arm and started to drag him.

“We can and we will,” he said firmly, but Jisung twisted out of his grasp. “ _Look_ at him, hyung.” In spite of himself, Changbin glanced towards the ongoing fight- only to feel his breath hitch at the sight.

The stranger’s mask had been torn off, and underneath it was a _boy-_ younger than Jisung, younger than Felix, younger than all of them. He practically looked like a fucking _child,_ except that his face was a sickening mess of blood and purpling bruises.

He was on the floor by this point, barely fighting back as the guards just- just _kicked_ him. Over and over and _over_. The boy didn’t even let himself cry out, just choking on each scream as it came.

Changbin swallowed hard as the boy’s gaze met his from where he lay spread on the floor.

His eyes were so fucking tired.

_So young so close to breaking into pieces-_

Changbin groaned, “Chan is such a terrible influence.” Jisung grinned at him with a surprised kind of light in his eyes, and Changbin rolled his eyes at him.

“Jesus Christ, _fine_. Let’s get the kid.”

 


	17. the sixth addition pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m rly sorry I didn’t get an update out last week…some random sad shit went down lol BUT I am now back and ready with some jeongin content AT LAST! He’s the hardest person to characterize in my opinion so I hope y’all like what I did (: also shoutout to @ohshitmychicken my love I hope this makes ur day a bit better

“Who the hell is that?”

Chan bolted upright at the sound of Woojin’s voice, the other boy’s wary tone piercing through the suffocating black silence. He peered around the side of the car to see- fucking hell, _finally._

Jisung and Changbin had decided to show up, at last.

Relief poured through Chan’s body in staggering waves as he gulped a lungful of the cool night air for what felt like the first time in the past hour. Jisung and Changbin- his boys- they were okay. They were _okay._

“Where the actual fuck have you two been?” Chan burst out, his chest feeling far too brittle as he turned away from them in an effort to hide how hard he was shaking. “We didn’t know what to think- and you weren’t talking at all over the Bluetooths and- I thought I’d _lost_ you two!”

_For so long, it was just the three of us-_

_Not alone never alone never again-_

A warm, firm hand wrapped around his, and Chan looked up to see Woojin gazing at him worriedly. “Sorry, sorry- I’m fine,” Chan said with a barely-there smile, before forcibly pulling himself together. He turned back to his boys, ready to give them a real lecture this time.

“Hyung, please- he needs help.” Jisung cut in desperately, adjusting the boy’s weight on his shoulder. As horrifyingly light as the boy was, he was still taller than both of them- and it hadn’t exactly been easy to carry him out of the warehouse.

Chan gaped, seeing the boy hanging on Jisung and Changbin’s smaller frames for the first time.

“Who- who the hell is that?” he asked, already rushing forward to help support the boy’s weight so Jisung and Changbin could slip away with tired groans.

“My sentiments exactly,” Woojin said with a tinge of amusement. “Are you two picking up random boys now, too? You know that’s already Chan’s job.” Jisung and Changbin gave him identical unamused looks, and the older boy smiled at them cheekily in response.

“He’s hurt, though,” Changbin spoke up a moment later, sobering quickly. “Passed out on the way over to the car. We’ll fill you in, but we need to leave now- and I mean _now._ ” Nodding, the two older boys helped arrange the stranger in the backseat before they all slid into the car.

As their beat-up Hyundai sped away from the warehouse, Chan couldn’t help but stare at the younger boy now slumped between Jisung and Changbin. Even in the dim light of the car, it was easy to see the garishly purple bruises blossoming over the boy’s now-uncovered face.

Worse than that- he looked _terrifyingly_ young. Wide crescent eyes that were now shut tight, messy black hair falling over his forehead, petal lips pushed out in a tiny pout- _fuck_ , Chan was melting already. Goddamnit, how was he already this soft?

  _The fuck kind of gang leader am I?_

“Are you planning on telling us where you got this kid?” Chan asked at last, unable to hold himself back any longer. He watched as Jisung and Changbin met each other’s eyes in the backseat, before Changbin opened his mouth.

“He…we found him in the weapons room,” he said quietly. “Hyung, he was trying to steal weapons, just like us.” Changbin gave the boy another glance before meeting Chan’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t know there was another gang in this territory that stole weapons…did you?”

Chan furrowed his brow, gaze sliding from Changbin’s to the road in front of him. “I didn’t know that, actually. There’s Loona, but they’re way out over by Nowon-gu district…that’s too far away for us to be real competitors.”

Chan gave the boy another glance, this one much more calculating. He had no visible gang symbols, but that didn’t always mean anything. The gang might not be a problem if they weren’t already…but to have someone that _young_ in a gang? What kind of gang would allow that?

Chan was pretty sure he didn’t want to know.

Woojin looked over at Chan from the passenger seat, his heart sinking at the stress he could see piling up on Chan’s shoulders. But maybe _, just this once_ \- maybe Chan would let him help. Making sure his voice was low enough that the other boys couldn’t hear him, Woojin murmured, “I still have some contacts in NCT if you want me to ask around.”

Chan whipped his head around to look at Woojin, unexpected anger filling his gaze. Woojin sat back in shock as Chan spoke in a low, dark tone. “Absolutely _not._ Woojin, you should never have to see those people again- much less ask them for help.”

Woojin exhaled in frustration, but Chan kept going. “You- you are not allowed to put yourself in danger like that, and I say that as your leader. Do you understand me?” Woojin nodded shortly, his initial surprise at Chan’s anger gone and only annoyance left in its wake.

_I would do anything for you, and yet-_

_Just let me fucking help you, please-_

“Jin.” Woojin turned his head to see Chan looking at him pleadingly. “I’m sorry for talking like that, but- I can’t lose you. I can’t.” Woojin couldn’t help but soften immediately at the sight of Chan’s eyes, glimmering in the city lights as they begged Woojin to just _understand_ -

_Please wake up please don’t leave me-_

“You won’t lose me, Channie,” Woojin said gently, his chest aching for the boy beside him. “I swear you won’t.” Chan simply nodded, hand reaching out over the console to grasp at Woojin’s for one burning moment-

His touch lighting wildfires on Woojin’s skin-

And that was when the kid woke up.

“Where the FUCK am I?!”

Jisung and Changbin immediately jumped to restrain the thrashing boy, as Chan swerved the car out of shock and Woojin grabbed the wheel with a shriek. In other words- utter chaos broke loose in that rusty old Hyundai.

“Everyone calm the _fuck_ down!” Chan yelled as soon as he righted the car.

Surprisingly, the boy quieted- but only a moment passed before he spat, “Let go of me, motherfuckers.” Jisung and Changbin did nothing of the sort, instead looking to Chan for instruction.

Their leader nodded, and that was all it took for both of them to (reluctantly) let go. Rubbing his sore arms, the boy cast a fox-like, wary glance around the car. “Can you tell me where the hell you’re taking me, at least?” he asked, obviously trying to sound stern but failing when his voice shook.

Chan sent him what he hoped was a comforting smile through the rearview window. “We’re taking you somewhere safe so we can treat your wounds, but I need to know what gang you’re part of first. And also your name, if you’d like.”

The boy scoffed, looking away from Chan’s gaze and hunching into himself. “I’m not part of any gang, so there’s no point in kidnapping me for a stupid ransom or whatever. No one will give you shit for me.” Chan sighed. He didn’t feel like interrogating the kid right now, but there was no way he could take a rival gang member back to 3racha headquarters.

“Listen, kid-” he began, only to be cut off. “Don’t call me kid,” the boy bit out. Chan refrained from laughing outright- this kid had some fire in him. It was a little hard to take him seriously, now that his wide night-sky eyes were open and reflecting the city lights like stars (and he was still pouting a bit).  

But no matter how infuriatingly cute this kid was, Chan was not so naïve as to trust him right now.

“Okay, _mate,_ I’m going to be honest here- if you’re a threat to my gang, I’m going to have to throw you out of this car. So right now would be a good time to decide if you’re going to be a threat or not,” Chan said matter-of-factly.

The boy scowled. “I wasn’t lying before- I’m not part of anything. And I don’t care about your gang, so I have no reason to hurt you guys. Now will you please just drop me off closer to the city center? I’ll be fine from there.”

Chan and Woojin exchanged looks, but Jisung spoke up indignantly before either of them could say anything. “Hell no, we’re treating your wounds! Me and Bin-hyung did not fight all those guards and drag your ass out of the warehouse just for you to go die somewhere.”

There was a brief moment of surprised silence, before Changbin nodded sharply. “Yeah- what he said.” Chan grinned and met the boy’s eyes once more. “Looks like you’re coming back with us, then. Do you want to tell us your name now?”

The boy groaned, but everyone in the car could hear the tinge of relief in his tone. “Fine. If I tell you my name, though, will you do something for me?” There was a long silence after that, before Chan sighed. “Depends on what it is, kid.”

“I’m _not_ a kid,” the boy muttered mutinously, before going quiet once more. He seemed to gather his courage for a moment before he spoke up again. “Can I at least get my stuff first? I don’t want it to get stolen.”

Woojin turned to look at the boy directly for the first time. “Stolen? Why would you leave your things in a place where they could be stolen?” The boy refused to meet his or anyone else’s eyes, instead glaring at his slightly trembling hands.

“I didn’t have a choice, okay?” he murmured, his voice losing its strength for a moment. Unsure what to make of that, Woojin just tilted his head before asking, “Okay…well, where is your stuff?”

The boy sat up straighter, clearly relieved that they seemed to be on board. “It’s in Yongsan-du district.” Chan grinned to himself, shaking his head. “Kid, you got lucky- that’s where we’re located. Okay, we’ll get your stuff- are you going to tell us your name now?”

The boy sat back with a sigh of relief, but still gave Chan a wary glance at the question. “You’ll get my name when I get my stuff,” he said shortly. Chan simply nodded in response, wondering just where this boy had grown up that he was already so calculating.

How hard was this boy fighting to survive, and for how long?

_Worthless little orphan-_

_Are you like me?_

 

“You can stop here.”

Chan slowly pulled the car alongside the sidewalk, brow furrowed in confusion. “You want me to stop _here_?” he asked skeptically. They were on the side of a busy street in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Yongsan-du, with nothing but convenience stores and dilapidated offices all around them.

Not exactly a place where someone should live.

The kid just nodded, hands clenching and unclenching as all the other boys looked at him worriedly. He’d gotten progressively more fidgety as they drove deeper into the district- but the rest of the boys chalked it up to general nervousness.

Even still- it was hard not to feel a little bad for the kid, his whole frame trembling as he curled into himself on the car seat. It was better not to ask questions, though. So Chan shrugged and rolled upwards until they were in front of a nondescript alleyway before cutting the engine.

“Okay, um- I’ll just go and get my shit,” the boy said shakily, before clambering out of the car and walking towards the alleyway. 3racha watched in silence as the boy walked right into the alleyway, bent down, and started packing bundles of things _that were just lying on the pavement._

_Wait-_

“Is- is he picking up stuff from the ground?” Jisung asked in a tiny voice. He swallowed hard, watching as the boy fit everything into a small bag- _everything he owned in one bag-_ and zipped it shut.

“Yeah, he is- _Jesus_ , he must live in that alleyway,” Changbin said quietly.

If they looked hard enough, they could see the home the boy had made for himself: a raggedy mattress, tucked behind a dumpster for protection against the wind, and his things in a bag. That was it- that was his _home._

_A boy without a home-_

_A stray-_

“Oh, Christ…and we made him show it to us and everything,” Woojin said brokenly. “Poor kid- of course he doesn’t have any other choice.” The boy started walking back towards the car now, bag slung over his shoulder and chin held high-

Even as they saw him fighting back tears.

He was trying so desperately to seem strong, to seem uncaring that this group of boys now knew he was _homeless-_ and yet his hands were shaking and he couldn’t walk right because of his injuries and _oh god oh god-_

All four of them felt their hearts shatter at once for this boy- this impossibly young thief who was filled with so much fire.

This boy who never seemed to let himself cry, not once.

_So young so close to breaking into pieces-_

_Dead boys walking-_

_Never alone never again-_

“Chan, this boy is coming home with us.” Woojin said firmly, without taking his eyes off the kid nearing the car. Chan reached out and let his hand rest over Woojin’s for a moment as he, too, watched the boy walk closer.

“Of course he is, Jin. Of course.”

The boy finally reached the car and slipped in without a word, his lips just barely trembling as he pressed them together tightly and his chin still held high. None of the other boys dared to say anything, instead just sitting silently as Chan started up the engine and drove away.

For a few long minutes, the car was blanketed with silence- and then the boy spoke up.

“And my name is Jeongin.”


	18. the sixth addition pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put off my literal fucking finals to write this in five hours so if this shit aint good…we going death! Hehe anyways enjoy me trying to characterize jeongin properly bc the little shit insists on being so damn complex :D (also I went way overboard with the ships oops)

Jeongin couldn’t stop trembling.

He was trying _so hard_ to hide it as his entire figure shook- but it didn’t seem to be working. It didn’t help that he was squeezed right between two of the gang members. The two who found him.

The two who ruined everything.

(If he was being honest, though- he was the one who ruined everything. He always did.)

Jeongin shut his eyes in an attempt to quell the swelling waves of emotion inside him- the frustration, the anger, the _fear-_

And the pain, of course. There was always pain.

_Crimson blood under his fingernails-_

Right now, though- he choked back a gasp as the seatbelt dug into his cracked ribs, squeezing his eyes tighter so no tears would fall. Right now, the pain was practically unbearable.

But it was alright- Jeongin was used to pain. You didn’t live the kind of life he did- _dumpster homes and cardboard blankets-_ without getting used to a little pain. It was a good thing he was used to hunger, too, because he hadn’t eaten in three days.

And after fucking this job up as bad as he did, there was no way he would be getting a paycheck. So that meant his meal plan for the next couple weeks…well. It didn’t matter anyways. He just needed to focus on not _trembling_ so damn hard- and not passing out from the pain.

He had to stay awake.

Jeongin may not know much, but he knew this- the boys in this car with him may have seemed alright, but they were gang members. And gang members would do anything to help their group.

They would kill anything that stood in their way.

_A gunshot in the bathroom- screaming brokenly at the night sky-_

To Jeongin, that was far scarier than sleeping on the streets. And that was why he would never join a gang- even if it meant that he had to sleep on an old mattress behind a dumpster. Even if it meant he had absolutely no one in the world who cared about him.

_“No one will give you shit for me.”_

Even if it meant he would always be alone.

For now, though- he knew he needed help. So if treating his wounds and sending him on his way was what this particular gang wanted to do so they could stroke their savior complexes- well, he would go right ahead and let them.

Maybe if he got lucky, they’d even give him some food.

It was shitty that they knew where he lived, now. He’d have to find a new area as soon as possible- but it was no easy task to find territory that hadn’t already been claimed by one of the other thousands of Seoul’s homeless.

So maybe Jeongin was pretty much fucked.

_Jesus,_ he had to stop trembling.

The one on his left- _Jisook? Jaesung?_ -gave him a weird look. “You alright, Jeongin-ssi?”

Jeongin swallowed against the sob that rose in his throat as the seatbelt jostled his ribs again, the pain bursting white-hot within him. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said through gritted teeth.

The other boy furrowed his brow, “You don’t really look fine-”

“And we’re here!” the leader interrupted with a shout from the front, grinning at the boy beside him in the passenger seat. Jeongin couldn’t do much more than grimace in response, now focusing all his energy on staying upright as dizziness hit him in waves.

Not eating for three days might be finally catching up with him. Or maybe it was the pain from his definitely-broken ribs. Or maybe it was the exhaustion from the job he had just fucked up. Or maybe it was the fact that he was about to walk into the fucking headquarters of an inner-city gang.

_Fuck._

The other boys all filed out of the car, leaving Jeongin to slide out after them on shaky limbs. He clutched the bag of his things to his chest tightly, a painful reminder that this was all he had. The other boys pretended not to watch his every move.

It was a little reassuring that they were much worse at acting than he was.

“Okay, how about we get you inside to take a look at those wounds?” The leader gave him a warm smile, dark hair falling into his kind brown eyes as he gestured for Jeongin to come closer.

Jeongin didn’t trust him one bit.

But he walked forwards anyways, struggling to keep his head held high as his vision blurred. He had to be okay, because if he passed out right here- on enemy gang territory, far from anything he knew- he was _really_ fucked.

_You are alonealonealone-_

So he let himself be led forward, up a set of crumbling stone steps and into a dark foyer as the other boys crowded around him into the building. The dizziness was steadily getting worse- but he managed to walk (mostly) normally through the hallway.

“We’re home!” the leader called out, and almost immediately the sound of rapid footsteps neared the wide-open room they were standing in. Jeongin peered through hazy eyes as four more boys poured into the room, his lungs clenching as he realized just how out-numbered he was.

God, he didn’t know if he could do this.

“Jeongin-ssi, meet the rest of our family!” The leader gestured towards the four new ones, pointing at each one as he named them.

“Felix-” A petite blond, grinning widely at him as he waved.

“Minho-” A lean, dark-haired boy nodding at him from the couch arm.

 “Hyunjin by the door-” A tall, delicately-featured boy leaning in the doorway.

“And Seungmin over there!” A slender, neatly dressed brunette giving him a small smile.

Jeongin did his best to bow his head politely at each one, jaw clenching with the effort. Jisook-Jaesung-something gave him another weird look, but said instead, “Chan-hyung, we never even introduced ourselves.”

The leader turned to Jeongin with a look of horror. “I’m so sorry, Jeongin-ssi! I’m Chan, this is Woojin, and the two who rescued you are Jisung and Changbin.”

Jeongin couldn’t help but glare at the floor a little at the use of “rescued” but nodded politely otherwise. _Fuck,_ the dizziness was getting worse. He wondered desperately if it would look weird if he suddenly fell over-

Because that was where things were heading, by the looks of it. The room was starting to blur into a hazy mess of faded wallpaper and cracked floors, and Jeongin felt himself falter on his feet.

“Hyung, the new kid doesn’t look okay-”

There was a shout of his name, but Jeongin couldn’t quite make his mouth work to answer whoever it was. In the next moment, his vision darkened, and-

_Broken screams in the night and the gunshot in the bathroom and the bloodthebloodtheblood-_

Jeongin hit the floor.

 

“Jisungie.”

Jeongin furrowed his brow, burrowing further into the pillow as voices surrounded him. He was so comfortable- wait, since when did he have a pillow?

Oh that’s right- he didn’t.

Jeongin’s eyes shot open at the realization, but the sudden onslaught of light sent flashes of hot pain in his head. Groaning internally, he cracked his eyes open just enough to take in his surroundings. Beyond a white-walled room and a window to his left, he could make out two boys sitting next to his bed.

Jisung and…Minho, if he remembered correctly. Neither of them had noticed his eyes were open, as they were looking straight at each other.

_Interesting_.

“Show your hyung, please.”

Jeongin watched as Jisung scowled at the ground, refusing to answer. Minho hooked his fingers under the other boy’s chin, lifting it so he could meet Jisung’s gaze. Jeongin smirked as he watched the younger boy widen his eyes and jut out his lips the tiniest bit.

“Don’t you dare pout at me, Jisung,” Minho said exasperatedly, but Jeongin could hear the smile in his tone. “You know that only works on Chan-hyung. Now show me your wounds.” _Ah,_ so that was it. Jeongin couldn’t help but smile as Jisung groaned.

These were some weirdass gang members, that was for sure.

Jisung sighed and finally lifted the bottom of his t-shirt, just enough for Minho to see the blossoms of purple and blue bruises stretching over the boy’s stomach. Jeongin would’ve nodded in recognition if he could- he had some of the same marks from those goddamn guards.

Minho gasped, and reached forward with a gentle hand to trace over the younger boy’s bruises. “Oh, Jisung-ah…how could they?”

Jisung looked away, cheeks tinted red, “It’s nothing, hyung.” He let his shirt fall back down, covering the marks once more as Minho sat back and looked at him pleadingly. The room seemed to shiver with the weight of the elder’s gaze as he regarded Jisung.

_Cinnamon and trembling fingers-_

_I can’t leave you-_

“Please- will it ever stop?”

Jisung and Jeongin furrowed their brows, both confused before the older continued. “You getting hurt, Jisung-ah. Will it ever stop?”

Minho’s hand traced feather-light over Jisung’s cheekbone as the younger boy closed his eyes for a long moment. Jeongin felt his eyes get heavier as a wave of dizziness hit him, but he knew exactly what Jisung was going to say- because he knew exactly what kind of life he lived.

It was the life they both lived. A life where pain came as often as breathing.

_It never stops._

“It never stops.”

Jeongin let his eyes fall closed, his last lingering image of Minho pulling Jisung closer to him. The younger boy’s head fell into the crook of the elder’s neck as both boys held each other tightly.

As if they would be torn away from one another at any moment.

_It never stops._

The next time he woke up, the room was dark around him- and two moonlit figures were seated side by side at the end of his bed. And unlike Minho and Jisung, these two boys were too busy pretending _not_ to look at each other to notice Jeongin had woken up.

These guys were kind of shitty caretakers, in Jeongin’s opinion.

He didn’t really mind, though- it was more a relief than anything else to not be questioned or shouted at or forced onto the street right now. There was also the fact that Jeongin hadn’t slept in a real bed in months, so he was going to stretch this out as long as he could.

You take what you can get, when you’re a stray.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Jeongin’s gaze flew back to the two boys, where the blond ( _Felix?_ ) had worked up the courage to stare at the other boy intensely. His wide brown eyes caught the moonlight and seemed to almost gleam- and the other boy- _Changbin,_ Jeongin realized- gulped at the sight.

“Just a few bruises, Lix. Nothing big- not nearly as bad as him,” Changbin’s voice was gravelly but tinged with undeniable softness as he responded to Felix, throwing a glance back to Jeongin as he finished his sentence.

Jeongin quickly shut his eyes- praying they hadn’t noticed he was awake. Luckily, they were both entirely too caught up in each other to notice much else.

_Interesting still._

There was a long silence, and Jeongin cautiously opened his eyes to see Felix was looking at Changbin with a fiery determination in his gaze. “Hyung, I want you to teach me how to shoot a gun.”

Changbin’s jaw dropped. “Felix-ah…what? Why would you ever want to do that?”

Felix clenched his fists. “Because it’s important! I need to know how to protect myself- how to protect all of you…” He trailed off, bowing his head as embarrassment tinged his freckled cheeks bright pink.

Changbin sat there, speechless, as Felix continued in a small voice. “All of you keep getting hurt, and- what if someone comes here while you all are away? What will we do then?”

At that, the older boy reached out and took Felix’s smaller hand in his without even thinking about it. All he could see was Felix’s wide, scared gaze in front of him. All he could think about were images of Felix bloody, Felix unconscious, Felix screaming-

It was sickening.

_A boy woven from gold-_

_You do not belong in this twisted world-_

“We will protect you, Felix. No matter what it takes- you never need to be afraid, okay? Never again- because we’re here now. I’m here now.” Changbin could feel his voice shaking, but he couldn’t look away from Felix’s moonlit figure.

Felix shook his head. “You can’t always be here, hyung! You won’t always be able to protect me…I need to know for myself. Teach me how to shoot a gun, _please.”_

Changbin closed his eyes, his stomach clenching at the thought of Felix- bright, pure, beautiful Felix- holding the weapon of a murderer in his hands. He never wanted Felix to become part of his world, but looking at the boy in front of him now-

Changbin knew it might already be too late.

_A boy woven from gold-_

_How can I protect you?_

He let out a long sigh, and Jeongin watched the older boy gather himself before opening his eyes once more and meeting Felix’s gaze. “Ask me on another day, Lix. Not on a day when I had to watch a boy younger than you fight for his life. Not on a day when I had to shoot another human being.”

Jeongin felt his heart clench at the mention of him, and he held his breath to see what the older boy would say next.

“Ask me another day- please. Right now…I can’t- I can’t say yes to you, Felix-ah.”

Felix reached a careful hand up to trace the side of Changbin’s face, his hand shaking under the weight of the other boy’s dark gaze.

_Black waves crashing-_

_I’ve got you-_

“On one condition, hyung,” he said at last, and Changbin merely raised an eyebrow in response. Felix smiled a little, and let his hand fall back to his side before answering.

“You hum for me, right now.”

The older boy let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Lix, you- I can’t believe you sometimes.” Felix merely grinned back at him, knowing that what Changbin needed more than anything right now was a distraction from the bloodshed he had seen.

“Hyung, please?”

Jeongin almost laughed out loud as Felix pouted- his pleading expression was almost identical to Jisung’s face earlier. Changbin groaned, pretending to be exasperated but letting a small smile slip onto his lips.

“Jesus, _fine_. But if you tell anybody-”

“My lips are sealed, hyung!” Felix said promptly, before grinning triumphantly and scooting over to lean his head on Changbin’s shoulder. The older boy looked down at the warm figure pressed against him, glad that Felix couldn’t see the expression on his face.

He was so in awe of this boy.

_You are so unfathomably precious to me-_

And with that, Jeongin drifted off to sleep once more to the sound of low, off-pitch humming. The sound was rough and very out of tune- but strangely comforting. It felt a little like home. Maybe a lot.

The moon shone on, and the two figures didn’t leave the bed for a long time.

 

The last time Jeongin woke up, it was to the sounds of hushed whispering. Whoever this was, they were trying a lot harder to be quiet than any of the others had been. Jeongin cracked his eyes open- much more carefully this time- to see Chan and Woojin sitting next to the bed.

“Chan, how are we going to take in another one? You know I want him here too, but-”

Jeongin’s eyes flew open- they were talking about him.

“Jin, there’s no way we can let him go back to sleeping on the fucking streets. He has to stay- he _needs_ us.”

Jeongin swallowed hard. It would be so easy to believe Chan- to believe the sincerity of the leader’s tone as he talked about keeping a stray like Jeongin in their group. But he knew there was no way they would keep him- not even if they wanted to.

Because he wouldn’t let them.

_Blood under your fingernails-_

Jeongin would never join a gang.

_YOUAREALONE-_

He would rather die.


	19. a heartsweet taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, y’all…I really appreciate ur support and love as always! Also I made this one (kinda) more fluffy since y’all keep complaining about this fic being sad all the time LMAO
> 
> ALSO I'm going to work for a service project in the middle of nowhere for a couple months, so idk what my updating schedule will be like...but I'll do my best!

Jeongin couldn’t stop running.

The alleyways were dark and twisting, and his only light was from weak neon signs and passing windows. Seoul rose around him, unforgiving and cold- but he couldn’t stop running. He couldn’t look back, either.

He could never look back. He knew this now.

So Jeongin ran for his life.

Arms pumping, heart beating right out of his chest, desperately praying he could outrun what lay behind him. Faster, faster, faster-

until the ground fell away beneath his feet.

Jeongin looked down to see the street had disappeared. There was nothing but a gaping black hole under him. For one frozen moment, the world was still.

_No please god no-_

And then Jeongin fell.

 

He woke up screaming.

“ _Jeongin-_ wake up!”

He opened his eyes to see a frantic Chan right before him, the older boy panting as if he had just sprinted into the room. Jeongin scrambled away from him, heart still pounding too fast as he struggled to pull himself together.

“Are you okay? What hurts?” Chan said hurriedly, hands reaching out but stopping just before he reached Jeongin- he obviously remembered the younger boy shying away from touching any of them. Right now, though, Jeongin almost wished Chan _would_ touch him.

He wanted desperately to be comforted for the first time in years, wanted to let himself break down and just be _held._ He was so tired of acting older than his sixteen years.

_You are not safe here-_

But Jeongin knew there was no way he could do that. These were _gang members_ in front of him- he had to be strong. He couldn’t let them see his weaknesses.

“I’m-I’m fine,” he forced out from his trembling lips, forcing his breathing to slow down to normal. Chan didn’t look convinced, looking behind him at another boy- who Jeongin hadn’t even noticed was in the room until now.

“He was just sleeping…and then he started screaming, hyung,” said the boy in a small voice. Taking a closer look, Jeongin realized this was Felix- his blond hair and freckles made him easy enough to recognize.

“It’s fine, Felix.” Chan nodded, before turning back to Jeongin. “Did you have a bad dream, kid? If none of your wounds feel too bad, we could try getting you into the kitchen for something to eat…it might help.”

Jeongin looked away, hands twisting into the bedsheets. He didn’t really want to see any of the boys right now, but…his stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl. Jeongin blushed in embarrassment, but Chan only chuckled.

“Yeah, let’s go with eating.”

So Jeongin climbed out of bed and followed Chan and Felix on shaky legs as they led him through the hosue to the kitchen, where most of the boys were already sitting. Jeongin wanted to shrink away as their gazes all fell on him at once, but all he could do was bow his head.

“The whole gang’s here today! We just finished breakfast, but I’m sure there’s some left that you can have,” Chan said kindly into the silence, and Jeongin just nodded before letting himself be led to a chair. He didn’t meet any of the other boys’ gazes, simply curling into himself and staring at the table.

“It’s good to see you’re feeling better.” The boy to his right finally said, and Jeongin looked up to see a disarming grin and broad shoulders. _Woojin_. Jeongin responded with a tight smile and a nod, and silence reigned once more.

It was pretty fucking uncomfortable, to say the least.

But of course- the silence didn’t last long. Chan started humming (badly) as he scooped rice onto a plate from the steaming cooker, and Changbin started whining for more coffee…which inspired Jisung to do an impression of him…which made Felix laugh so hard he fell out of his chair. And with that, the usual chaos ensued.

Jeongin watched with wide eyes as the boys around him talked and laughed with one another. Seungmin and Felix were conversing quietly with Minho interjecting now and then, while Changbin teased Hyunjin about the sheer number of designer labels the boy was wearing that day. In the background, Jisung, Chan, and Woojin carried on a half-shouted conversation about the inventory.

Jeongin had been running from gangs all his life, but he’d never imagined one to be quite like this.

He was torn from his thoughts by a clink as Chan set down a plate laden with food in front of him. Jeongin’s jaw dropped at the huge amount that was on there, but Chan only winked at him and walked back over to the stove.

So for the next half hour, Jeongin ate mouthful after mouthful of rice, meat, kimchi, and vegetables- and he watched the boys around him. Something about their easy smiles and genuine affection for each other…made him feel safe.

 _Safe_ , for the first time in years.

It almost made him want to-

_A gunshot in the bathroom-_

_No._

He had to remember who these people were.

“Jeongin-ssi, how old are you?”

Jeongin looked up to see Felix looking at him expectantly, with Seungmin beside him. Both boys seemed friendly enough, but Jeongin remained silent for a long moment before answering warily.

“Sixteen.”

Felix and Seungmin grinned at each other, before Felix yelled down the table at Jisung, “Yah- we’re not the youngest anymore, Sung!”

Amid Jisung’s and Felix’s excited shouts, Jeongin hesitantly asked Seungmin, “How…old are you guys?” Seungmin smiled warmly at the younger boy, his usually aloof demeanor melting away at the sight of Jeongin’s wide, night-sky eyes.

There was no denying it- this boy was hopelessly adorable.

“Me, Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin- we’re all seventeen, so you can call us hyung. Well, you can call everyone hyung, actually- Changbin is eighteen, Minho is nineteen…and Chan and Woojin are both twenty.” Seungmin counted off, nodding at each boy as he spoke. Jeongin took this all in with wide eyes before simply nodding.

He was just about to go back to his food, when- “Aigoo, how cute can you _get?_ ”

Jeongin’s gaze shot up to see Hyunjin grinning- a bit shamefacedly- at him, and he merely stared at the older boy in shock as the whole table burst into laughter.

“Don’t scare the kid, Hyunjinnie!” Woojin scolded lightly.

Seungmin was no less surprised than Jeongin, gazing at the delicate features of his schoolmate with uncertainty. A week ago, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine Hwang Hyunjin cooing at anything, much less a boy a year younger than him.

_The ice prince of Daewon Prep-_

It just didn’t make sense. Where was the boy who walked through the hallways with perfect grace, people parting like waves before him? Where was the boy who looked right through Seungmin- and anyone else who wasn’t important to him? Where was the boy whose mask never, _ever_ cracked?

_Who are you?_

At that moment, Hyunjin’s gaze swung over- catching Seungmin right in the act of staring at him. But instead of looking away, Hyunjin held his gaze evenly- his electric gaze poring right into Seungmin’s core and freezing him in place.

He couldn’t look away.

Just when Seungmin thought he might do something utterly idiotic- like _smile_ at Hyunjin, for god’s sake- he managed to tear his gaze away. He firmly turned his body towards Felix instead, and engaged the other boy in conversation immediately.

Seungmin missed the flash of disappointment that passed through Hyunjin’s gaze as he turned away.

Hyunjin sighed, eyes still on the back of Seungmin’s head as the other boy talked to Felix. For a moment there, Seungmin’s gaze had been filled with soft warmth instead of its usual fire when he looked at Hyunjin. For a moment there, Hyunjin had almost thought…that there was some way they could be friends. Maybe.

_The ice prince-_

_A boy full of fire-_

Well. Maybe not.

 

Jeongin looked at his now-empty plate, his chest unusually tight for some reason. He was done eating- and he was able to walk on his own. He knew this meant that he was ready to go…he just wished he knew why that thought made him feel so sick.

_Broken screams-_

_You can never stop running-_

He pushed himself away from the table and stood up with a clatter, drawing the eyes of all the boys. “Um- sorry,” he stammered, and a fond coo could be heard from somewhere in the crowd. Regaining his composure, Jeongin continued, “Thank you for feeding me and healing me…and letting me stay here.”

With this, he gave a deep bow to them all, and each boy couldn’t help but grin at the youngest’s formal politeness. In the next moment, however, Jeongin straightened up with a newly serious look in his eyes. “It’s time for me to leave, though.”

A chorus of protests rose immediately, and Jeongin backed away with wide eyes at the sudden wave of volume. Chan caught him from behind with a warm hand to his elbow, and the younger boy flinched away from the contact immediately.

“Ah, sorry-” Chan grimaced. He stepped a safe distance away from Jeongin before nodding to the still rioting crowd of boys. “Sorry about them- they get attached quickly, it seems. How about you and me go somewhere quieter so you can tell me what you’re thinking?”

Jeongin gave Chan a wary once-over. Going anywhere alone with a gang member was not high on his list of preferred activities, but…Chan was clearly the leader, and if this is what it took for them to let Jeongin leave- well, so be it.

So he gave a quick nod in response, and let Chan lead him into the living room- but only after giving the other boys a fierce glare to shut them up. Sitting down in the ragged armchair across from Chan, Jeongin took a deep breath and prepared himself for the leader to sway him into joining with promises of riches and…emotional support, or whatever the fuck they did here.

“Why do you want to leave?” Chan said gently, looking as though he was holding himself back from giving Jeongin a reassuring pat on the shoulder or leg. _Jesus_ , this guy was like a dad from a sitcom.

Thrown off by the unexpected question, Jeongin gathered his thoughts. “I don’t want to be in a gang. I’m grateful that your gang…helped me out for a bit. But I’m not going to join you- and no amount of money will change my mind.”

Chan laughed, “As if I had money to throw around! You’re thinking too much, kid. I wasn’t going to offer for you to join the gang- not when I don’t know anything about who you were working for back there at the warehouse. But…you do seem like you could use a little help.”

Jeongin blinked in surprise. “You…don’t want me to join?”

Chan grinned, “I thought you didn’t want to.” At Jeongin’s scowl, he only grinned wider before continuing. “Nah, I just thought you might like to stay with us until you can find a…more suitable place to live. We really don’t have much here, but-”

Chan trailed off, gaze falling on the open kitchen door- where the other boys could be seen doing dishes and teasing each other relentlessly. His eyes softened. “But we’ve grown a lot in the past couple months, and in that time…we’ve learned to trust one another. I think that’s a pretty good selling point.”

He turned back to Jeongin, giving him a cheeky half-smile. “Besides, the boys already love you- I can tell.”

Jeongin felt his hands clench around the hem of his shirt, chest almost too tight to bear. God, why was he even considering this? He took a steadying breath before looking back to Chan.

“Thank you for your offer, but…I can’t be with a gang. I just can’t.”

Chan tilted his head, eyes probing as he held Jeongin in place with his gaze. “Why?”

Jeongin closed his eyes.

_Broken screams and the night sky and the bathroom and Eomma and the blood-_

How was he supposed to tell Chan that he knew more about gangs than he ever wanted to, and wished he could forget it all?

How was he supposed to tell Chan that he had been running for six years, and it was impossible to stop now?

How was he supposed to tell Chan that gangs had torn _everything_ from him?

“I-I just can’t.”

Jeongin’s hands were trembling, and he couldn’t make himself look at Chan as gunshots echoed in his ears. The leader rested one impossibly gentle hand on Jeongin’s arm- and this time, the younger boy didn’t push him away.

“Okay, Jeongin-ah. I won’t push. But at least stay until you’re healed a bit more.”

And with all his resolve depleted at that point, Jeongin could do nothing but nod.

 

“Okay, you ready?”

Felix nodded, eyes fastened on Changbin as the older boy carefully took a gun out of its casing. The sun warmed his just-barely shaking hands as the two boys stood on the rooftop, targets set up ahead of them on the edge.

Breeze whipped through Changbin’s coal-black hair, and he pushed the strands away from his face absentmindedly as he focused on checking the gun over. Felix gulped at the sight of the older boy’s toned arms, golden skin on display with his sleeves rolled to the elbows.

_Jesus fucking Christ, what have I gotten myself into?_

“This is a Glock 19- it should be alright for a beginner.” Changbin nodded in satisfaction before handing it to Felix, the younger boy taking the weapon as if it were a snake about to bite him. Changbin shook his head as he watched Felix hold the gun as far away from him as possible.

“Felix-ah.”

Felix’s head snapped up to meet Changbin’s gaze, his own eyes the size of dinner plates. “Yeah, hyung?”

Changbin sighed and strode over to him. “I thought you wanted to learn how to shoot…” He looked over Felix’s trembling frame with a careful eye. God, he _so_ did not want to do this. If he could just figure out how to convince Felix to stop…

Felix nodded his head furiously, still holding the gun away from him. “I do, hyung!”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you holding the gun three feet away from you?” At this, Felix let out a squeak of embarrassment and yanked the gun against his torso.

Changbin let himself lean closer to Felix, almost unconsciously letting his hand fall against the blond’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay if you’re scared, Lix. Tell hyung if you are, and we can just go back downstairs…I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

Felix shook his head firmly. “No way- I want to learn how to do this. It took me _ages_ to convince you to teach me, hyung. No…this needs to happen right now.”

Changbin barely refrained from groaning. _Jesus,_ Felix was so goddamned stubborn. He was going to be the death of Changbin, sooner or later. Still, though- a promise was a promise. Even if it was a horribly unfair promise made under the pressure of fierce pouting on Felix’s part.

“Alright, Lix,” he said in defeat. “First, I need you to hold it like this…” Felix held his breath as his hyung’s callused fingers gently adjusted his own on the grip of the gun. Changbin was standing unbearably close to him now, the scent of cedarwood and gunpowder spiking in the air.

“And then your other hand comes up like this…” Changbin shifted closer to Felix, heart jumping at the proximity of the younger boy. God, how was he supposed to do this? It was such bittersweet torture, to be so close to this boy he cared for so deeply.

_A boy woven from gold and a boy woven from night-_

_If you’re full of nothing, can you still have a heart?_

Felix leaned back against him with utter trust, and Changbin let one hand fall against the younger boy’s waist as he gently nudged open Felix’s legs a bit more. “Stand like this, Lixie…don’t want you falling over.”

Felix thought that he would probably fall over regardless, with the heat of Changbin’s hand on his waist spreading through his entire body and setting his skin on fire. He was maybe starting to regret this entire idea.

“And then you raise your arms up to point…right at the target…” Changin murmured in Felix’s ear, one hand still on the younger boy’s waist and the other holding his arms up. He was now holding Felix entirely in place- pinned against him as the younger boy desperately tried to remember how to breathe.

Felix lifted the gun to point at the target ahead of him on the rooftop, but he could barely think about aiming. All he could think about was how safe he felt. Even with the wind whipping around them and Seoul stretching away in the distance, Felix felt utterly _safe_ in Changbin’s arms.

And that was when Felix realized something- something he’d probably known for a while now.

_Crashing black waves-_

_A beautiful mess of a boy-_

Standing here in the arms of his hyung, Felix felt like he was finally home.

Changbin was home.

_I’ve got you-_

_I’ve got you-_

_I’ve got you, Felix-ah._

 

 


End file.
